Daddy Dearest
by The Lady More
Summary: History changes forever when Sir Thomas Moore, infamous Man of All Seasons comes across a note from Elizabeth of York, revealing he is the true father of Henry VIII. For NaNoWriMo 2010, WARNING: VERY AU!
1. King And His Tutor

_**The Following is an attempt for the 2010 NaNoWriMo. Please be wary, this story is not going to be like any you have seen. I had to do a lot of planning and a lot of Math (which I hate) to plan this lovely story, if you don't like it, theres a little "X" button at the top of the screen CLICK IT and be mature and leave your comments to yourself. K thanx. Those who flame me…..will have flying monkeys sent upon them. **_

_**Disclaimer:**_ _**I am not god, this did not happen, if it did….Allison Weir, David Starkley and all of those other hotshot biographers would have covered it by now.**_

_**And now without further ado…..**_

Daddy Dearest

**Between A King And His Tutor:**

_I would often discuss the issue with Moore, we would stand on the roof at night, and study the heavens, Moore had a great knowledge of the stars and how they influenced our humors…._

_**-Henry VIII-Tudors 2x07**_

_**September 30**__**th**__** 1530 Whitehall**_

There was a large gathering in the great hall. It seemed all of England was in anticipation to see the elevation ceremony of its new Lord Chancellor. Those in the room bustled with noise wondering what changes he would bring to England. For most, like patrons of Humanism, those born of low blood, thought his reign would bring an era where everyone would have a chance to live to their full potential. A reign that would free of corruption and greed. But some feared that with the Chancellor's new reign would come with a wave of terror that would eliminate all heresy from England.

But for now everyone thought this new Chancellor would be a breath of fresh air from the corrupt and greedy Cardinal Wolsey (who by the end of his reign did more for himself than the people).

Meanwhile the man of the hour, the soon to be Lord Chancellor, stood behind the closed the double doors waiting to be called into the room. The anticipation was killing him.

Though he wasn't the type to admit these things since he was so humble, but he was excited to be Lord Chancellor. It wasn't for the money, the glory or the prestige that came with it. It was for the mere fact that he cared for the king, whom he affectionately called "his Harry." It was his fatherly affection to his king that distinguished him the rest of the courtiers. His only reward and satisfaction was to keep a smile on the King's face even when the days were dark.

Suddenly his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of trumpets and a voice calling out his name:

"Sir Thomas Moore."

On the far end of the room, King Henry VIII sat on his throne with a huge grin on his face. He knew that were was no one more worthy for this position than the man walking down the aisle. He considered Moore, the infamous man of all seasons, a godsend, and a saint.

He met Moore when he was 12 years and just named Prince of Wales. It was a dark time in his life. For all his life he believed that he was going to be nothing but a cleric. He was considered the disgrace. So when his brother Arthur, may god rest his soul, died everyone including his father laughed at the prospect of having his son become the King. No one believed in Prince Harry, no one except for Thomas Moore

He felt the safest when he was in the presence of his tutor. He could be himself, make mistakes and not be criticized for it. Soon he confided in Moore for all his secrets, wishes and fears. He turned to Moore for advice. This simple man who was supposed to be nothing more than a teacher, became the father he never had. And it remained that way ever since.

Henry didn't know what he would do without Moore. He was his foundation, without him, his world would crumble.

"Harry," That soft kind familiar voice said.

Moore stood before him with those kind dark eyes and that smile that lit up the room even on the darkest days. He bowed deeply and as always Henry felt the warm comforting feeling rush through his body. He then turned his head to his secretary, Thomas Cromwell who by now had knew how to these ceremonies by heart. Cromwell bowed his head and walked off the dais to the future Lord Chancellor with a Bible in his hands.

"Sir Thomas please place your hand on bible," He said.

With a happy sigh the humanist complied.

"Sir Thomas," Cromwell said in a serious tone, "Do you swear to take your position as Lord Chancellor honorably and faithfully, and to serve the king and provide him good council so help you god?"

Moore bowed his head in a sign of acknowledgement and said quietly and modestly:

"I do."

Cromwell bowed his head in a silent congratulations before stepping to the side. Sir Thomas mouthed a simple and polite "thank you". Soon Henry stepped down from his dais. It was now his job to make his title official.

"Kneel," Henry said with a proud smile.

Moore obediently kneeled before him. Again he was in a modest position, on one knee with his eyes towards the floor. His shoulders were straight up and proud. Henry knew Moore was never a man to be greedy and vain. But today…..after all he done for him, he deserved to be proud.

"Before I start," Henry said to the crowd of people which included Moore's friends and family and his betrothed Katherine of Aragon, "I would like to say a few words, I owe everything to this man. He prepared me with such diligence to be your king, gave me good council and above all….treated me like a human."

He looked down to Moore. A small confident smile flashed across his lips.

"And with that," Henry continued, "I say no man is more deserving for the title of Lord Chancellor than the man kneeling before me. And now to make it official."

Henry then pulled the sword out of his belt pocket and placed it on Moore's right shoulder. The humanist's dark eyes shifted towards the blade then back down to the ground.

"I dub thee Sir Thomas Moore Lord Chancellor of England," Henry said, "Now stand Sir Thomas and be recognized."

And as Sir Thomas stood up the crowd erupted in a thunderous applause.

* * *

It was hard for Henry to get to Sir Thomas that afternoon. The man of all seasons was surrounded by a sea of friends and family. It was almost impossible for him to get through the crowd (despite his high status as King). He had to wait just like everyone else.

A smirk formed at the corner of his lips as he remembered a set of words his mentor had told him about situations like this:

_Yes Harry, once you become king, you will be above all others. They will bow to you and make a path for you in a crowded room, but there a some days where you won't get your way…..they will be too busy to make a path for you, experiences a man of normal blood would experience. If you are able to experience these things, then you will understand your people and if you understand your people you will be a great king._

There was never a set of advice Henry didn't follow no matter how much he disagreed with it, because Henry knew the outcome would always be positive. Patiently he waited for him to finish his conversations from friends and family. Soon a voice that was often so calming to him called out his affectionate nickname for him.

"Harry!"

The crowd parted for him making a clear makeshift path for him. Despite being an adult now, he ran down the path excitingly to give him a hug. He always found Sir Thomas' embrace comforting to him. It was that comforting embrace he longed for when he felt his world was falling apart. The embrace he longed for when he was having a bad day, and even if Henry was having a good day, a hug from his mentor and father figure would make the day close to perfect.

Soon Henry was at the end of the aisle hugging his mentor tightly.

Being the one who raised his Harry from a young prince to a great King, Sir Thomas loved these moments. Like his four natural children, stepdaughter from his previous marriage with his second wife Alice (may god rest her weary soul) and his adopted daughter, his mood reflected what Harry was feeling. If Harry was happy, Sir Thomas was happy. If Harry was upset, Sir Thomas was upset.

It wasn't just the empathy he felt Harry was upset that put him in the mental mindset of a parent, there were many other factors. There were times where Sir Thomas had sleepless nights worrying about the king's well-being. He had moments where he sharply retorted to anyone he caught mocking the king, like he often done if he heard one speaking ill of his children as well. He would drop what he was doing to comfort Harry if he got he was upset, or worse ill. It was like Harry was his long lost second son, never knew about for natural fatherly he felt with him. However the outcome was impossible because Harry wouldn't be on the throne now would he?

Harry had stepped back and smiled. It amazed the humanist that such a small, scrawny young boy became such a tall, polite and charismatic young man ruling a glorious kingdom such as England.

"So Sir Thomas," Henry said with that big grin that had not washed off his face since the beginning of the ceremony, "how does it feel to be Lord Chancellor?"

Sir Thomas tilted his head to the side and placed a finger on his chin. He often did that when he was thinking. As a humanist philosopher many often saw him in this, thoughtful position. To him this was a hard question to answer. Men who became Lord Chancellor were very vain about the fact they were given such a high prestigious honor. Others felt as though they were unstoppable and nothing would strike them down. Others reveled in the idea that there was a vast amount of riches that was coming their way. Those who knew the humanist well, knew that Sir Thomas Moore, the modest, kind, pious and moral scholar feeling's would be far from a common courtier.

"To be honest Harry," Sir Thomas said with a smile, "I don't feel any different than from what I felt when I awoke this morning."

Henry couldn't help but chuckle at the comment. The humanist laughed along with him. He was not surprised Moore would make a comment like that. He patted Moore on the shoulder.

"Always the idealist Sir Thomas," He said, "always the idealist. So are we still on for star gazing tonight or should I make other plans."

Sir Thomas raised an eyebrow, after all these years Harry was still questioning his reliability?

"Of course Harry," He said, "when have I ever had not been turned down such an activity we enjoy together….never."

* * *

It was the perfect night for stargazing. There was not a cloud in the sky. A warm breeze rustled through the trees. The moon was full and a orange color. It was rare to have such a warm fall night like this, but Henry cherished it.

From his spot in Whitehall, Henry could see his whole kingdom from here. From the dark forests to the never ending strip of water known as the Thames. From the dark sinister shadows of the tower, to the lights of the city that shined over London. He thought the best sight was the moon and the stars reflecting into the water of the Thames.

"You know Utopians may seem to have it better than us," A voice from behind called, "but they certainly don't have a view like this."

Henry made a slight smirk before turning his head towards the owner of that voice.

"Then Sir Thomas," Henry replied turning his head towards his friend and mentor, his blue eyes began to follow his movements, "the Utopians aren't as lucky as we thought."

Moore chuckled in response. The man was lucky he had a laugh as strong as his humor.

"How are things?" Sir Thomas asked as he took his spot right next to Henry, "how is the lady Anne?"

He watched as Harry's face went from a smile to a frown.

"She's complaining again," he said in a low grumble, "I admit it is taking rather long for the pope to agree with the divorce, but still Katherine was an easy person to agree with, she may have been stubborn but at least she was the type to come to an agreement as long as both parties were satisfied."

Sir Thomas sighed. He still didn't know what to make of the divorce since it happened so quickly. One day Harry told him he was divorcing Katherine, then the next before he even had time to process such a situation, he is engaged Harry's former wife. Not that he minded, he found Katherine to possess such inner and outer beauty that any man in Christendom could enjoy and cherish. And since Katherine was satisfied with the agreement Sir Thomas was satisfied as well.

Soon Harry found another girl. An exotic beauty with raven hair and dark eyes named Anne Boleyn. Sir Thomas knew who she was. His son, John, went to Cambridge with her brother George. The two shared a dormitory and became and still to this day remain close friends (George seemed to be the only Boleyn the humanist could tolerate). Both George and Anne along with their harlot sister Mary, the great prostitute, were children of the lowest of the scum of the earth, Thomas Boleyn. Lord Boleyn was the type who merely saw people, including his family and the king himself as objects that will benefit only him and no one else. He was the type of man that if murder wasn't a sin and was legal, Sir Thomas Moore would gladly kill to end the reign of destruction the man had created.

And Sir Thomas knew the moment he saw Harry with that Boleyn girl; that it had to be Lord Boleyn's doing. He prayed that this infatuation would pass like all of Harry's previous liaisons with women, but this girl, this Boleyn serpent was the cleverest of them all. She wouldn't let some foreign princess be queen….that was her prize.

Of course he tried in vain, to warn Harry, not outright but in little hints, but it now seemed to be too late. The spider had poor Harry caught in her web. It was only a matter of time before things began to turn to the worse.

"Harry," Sir Thomas with a concern look on his face, "are you sure you want to go through your marriage with the Lady Anne? I mean Harry look at yourself, you are not even married to her yet and you are stressing yourself out. Couldn't you marry someone else? Or at least find another suitor?"

Henry sighed and turned his towards the humanist and gave a smile. To the king it was a true smile, but to Sir Thomas, there still seemed to be something bothering him.

"Don't worry about me Sir Thomas," Henry said looking out into the horizon, "let's just enjoy this beautiful night."

Sir Thomas sighed and gave a reassuring smile. He would question further for now. But he had nothing but worry filling his mind. Little did he know….he would soon have much more trouble to worry about…

_**I hope you enjoyed! And you know the drill….nice comments/ reviews and encouragement for NaNoWriMo….shall get COOKIES!**_


	2. Discovery At The Heretic's Home

_**Thanks for the reviews and adds everybody. So far I am doing better than last year but I could use MORE (no pun intended) encouragement. I will feel grateful.**_

_**Warning:**__** Moore goes crazy.**_

**Discovery at The Heretic's Home:**

_**The Lord Chancellor's Office September 15**__**th**__** 1531**_

It had been almost a year since he took on the role as Lord Chancellor. He improved the education system so it would accomidate children of all classes. This way it would give everyone a chance to live to their full potential no matter where they came from. Another important law he enacted was a milestone for women's rights. With the unexpected help from Henry's rising minister Thomas Cromwell, they created a law which made rape a punishable offense. Women everywhere rejoiced knowing that England was beginning to enter an age where women were no longer objects but humans.

However there was one problem that he tried to fix but still distressed Sir Thomas, the issue of heresy. Religion was an important aspect and value of his life. He had a hard childhood. His mother died from accident when he was six years old. His father immediately blamed his second eldest child for the death. And he never made him forget that.

Every chance he got, his father would beat him to the point of near death. Sometimes Sir Thomas thought he deserved it because he knew better than to talk back to his god forsaken father. Other times it was out of the blue. These were the times his father beat him just to "fix his bad mood." No one would protect him not even his siblings. So he would turn to the one source that would hear his cries. A higher power who reigned over all who inhabited the earth….god. And god always listened to his cries. Sometimes his father would abruptly stop the blows to his weak and vulnerable body. But God always managed to numb the pain and make him heal faster.

For that Moore decided to devote himself to god for the rest of his days. Even if he didn't follow all the laws of god, he followed a majority. He saw the Catholic faith and something pure and beautiful, as a salvation. He felt the same about religions. He was known tolerate them as long they didn't make a mockery of the Catholic faith.

The moment that heretic Martin Luther, posted his god forsaken 99 Theses on the door of that church, he destroyed what was Christendom. Sir Thomas prayed that it would pass but soon others took on to this new radical idea. All these demons of Satan supported Luther and praised him for taking a stand against these people who apparently were just a low as the devil.

Okay, so Sir Thomas agreed the church needed some "Spring Cleaning". He thought it was unfair that church officials were using money to make their church fancier than the other just to get more parishioners, when they could have been using their money to help the poor. And he did not like the fact that some church officials decided that they only way to get into heaven was to pay them. This ruined the purity and fairness of the Catholic Church. But did that mean he wanted to go against doctrines that have been placed by the savior himself, no. Some change was necessary but not as radical as Luther's ideas. The reformation got sicker than Luther's ideas. He led the peasants to destroy sacred and holy items and start riots in the streets. It was amazing how the persuasion of words can cause people to go mad and become heathens.

Sir Thomas tried in vain, along with Harry, to write against him; but, the strong willed Luther fought back writing back with such anger. And the more powerful Luther became the faster the reformation spread. It was only a matter of time before the heresy to hit England. And soon it did. Underground meetings run by Protestants from the German countries began to meet right under everyone's noses. Thousands of Luther's writings managed to sneak into Englishmen's libraries and were seized and burned.

But not even that helped. A few daring English writers wrote pamphlets that followed Luther's ideas. Sir Thomas had to resort to the most extreme of methods to silence the reformation once for all…..burnings. Oh did the humanist wish he did not have to resort using pain and suffering in others, especially since he feared pain and agony from years of brutal abuse. But had no choice! These heretics needed fear to persuade them and fear was what they would get. So Sir Thomas went out gathered up five admitted heretics and had them burn….did it work….for a while.

But now Sir Thomas was beginning to find it in vain! Now he found that the harlot, the little Boleyn serpent, was one too! And now….she was supplying Harry with blasphemous works. Knowing how much she seduced poor Harry already, Sir Thomas wasn't surprised his poor Harry was starting to flirt with heretical ideas.

Sir Thomas groaned and placed his head in his hands at the thoughts. Maybe he should give up. Maybe he should just retire his post as Chancellor and return home to Chelsea with Katherine. There was no point in fighting Harry wasn't going to listen to home as long as that harlot was around. No he wouldn't as long as he was here he can save Harry from making the wrong decision. He needed to be there to protect Harry from making the wrong decision.

A clearing of the throat had interrupted the humanist's thoughts. Sir Thomas lifted his head to see a page boy standing in the room.

"My Lord," He said, "his grace Bishop Fisher the Bishop of Rochester is here to see you."

Moore sighed. One of the things that drasticly changed since Harry's great matter and his engagement with Katherine was his relationship with his once close friend Bishop John Fisher. Before this mess they enjoyed each other's company, had long and stimulating conversation and Moore would often turn to him for religious advice. But since his engagement to Katherine the old bishop became somewhat cold and distant towards him. It was hurtful especially since Sir Thomas did absolutely nothing to hurt the other man.

However in recent days Fisher suddenly became kinder to the humanist, which was strange especially since the old bishop was more intrigued about his fight to eliminate heresy rather than his friend's well being. Because of his friend's cold behavior Sir Thomas had to find a new confessor to turn to when he needed spiritual guidance, which he needed during this troublesome low time in his life. Unfortunately, his new confessor Bishop Stephen Gardiner who was a bigger religious fanatic than him did not help either. He was always complaining about himself and how Moore should be working harder to fight the heathens.

He prayed that this visit was one for leisure, for once.

"Send him in," Sir Thomas said with a groan.

He began to massage his temples. He was already getting one of his many headaches he received when he stressed. Some days he would live with them, other days the pain was so bad it led to nausea.

"One of your headaches again," Fisher's voice said interrupting his thoughts.

Sir Thomas was rather surprised that Fisher for once in this unnecessary treatment of his supposed close friend actually cared about his mental or physical well being. Usually he would come in greet Sir Thomas and get down to business. Then again this was probably fake kindness since he knew Sir Thomas was beginning to become rather annoyed at him.

"I know you are not here for small talk," Sir Thomas said as he stood up from his seat and walked in front of his desk, folding his arms in front of him.

"Clever," Fisher replied as he walked next to him and placing a pamphlet on the desk, "I have another heathen for you to catch."

Sir Thomas turned his head away and made a deep groan, closing his famous dark brown eyes.

"I am giving up the campaign against heresy," He said quietly, "I feel there is no point of searching anymore. Yes I agree Harry is being influenced by evil forces but if that is what he wishes, I respect that. Besides why waste my time fighting a lost cause when I could be out there giving the poor a better life."

The humanist thought that his "friend" would reply with such a fiery response. But instead a long hearty chuckle interrupted his thoughts. Sir Thomas snapped his head back up and looked at him with wide eyes. Was he actually MOCKING him?

"You are seriously willing to become a heretic for the king, you care too much about that boy," Fisher said with venom on his tongue, "he's not even your child and you act you are his father."

Sir Thomas furrowed his brow. He could tolerate mocks towards him, but never towards his child, nor his Harry. He was known to lose his temper at others who mocked his king but he had to hold his tongue and keep himself under control because a strike against a cleric was a strike against god. He curled his hand into a tight fist to point to where his fingers were cramping to prevent a reaction

"Don't call the king _that boy_ it's disrespectful," He replied with venom on his tongue, "and I am not a heretic, I would not be swayed but such blasphemy."

"If you ignore this you will be," The old bishop replied, "you want the world and Rome to see you as a blasphemous protestant."

Silence…. If there was one thing Sir Thomas feared, it was becoming one of them. If he became one of them he would displease god and suffer a long period of pain in purgatory or worse an eternity in hell. He cringed thinking of a never ending wave of suffering washing upon him. He closed his eyes once again and brought his head to his chest.

"I thought so," Fisher said, "now arrest this heretic and make an example of him."

And before Sir Thomas could reply he was alone in the room once again with nothing but guilt and shame running through his veins.

_**September 20**__**th**__** 1531, Residence of Simon Fish**_

"I THOUGHT YOU STATED THE IMPORTANCE OF FREEDOM OF SPEECH YOU FUCKING HYPOCRITE!" Simon Fish squealed as two guards dragged him into the living room and forced him to sit on a chair.

Sir Thomas lifted the blasphemous pamphlet to the eye view of the men staring at each other. Of all the heretical writings he skimmed over as evidence….he skimmed over this had to top the cake. He felt that not an educated man, but a paranoid delusional loony who escaped one of the asylums.

"Yes for the reformation of our government," Sir Thomas growled as he waved the packet in the air, "but against god, it makes me sick and upsets other people who are true believers of the lord."

He bent down so he was eye length with this….monster who wrote such an monstrosity and mockery to the true faith.

"I have read many of these heretical writings," Sir Thomas continued with fire in his eyes and venom on his tongue, "but this one tops the cake! I never read anything with more nonsense and bullshit than this one! Cleric's taking over-"

"But Sir Thomas," Fish interrupted, "a lot of clerics influence our laws and ideas!"

The humanist retorted by smacking Fish across the head with his own written pamphlet. The heretic winced and rubbed his now sore forehead.

"By god the rumors are true," Fish squealed, "you do torture people!"

Moore rolled his eyes and turned his back towards the heretic. If heard that stupid rumor that he tortured people at his home one more time…..

"Maybe all the furry creatures of the England plan to overthrow our king and make us humans SLAVES!" Thomas roared before beginning to pace back and forth in front of a now very nervous Simon Fish. "I don't know if I can even consider you a heretic, only a mad man, even Luther would laugh at you."

At the corner of his eye he saw Fish just a little. The Heretic knew he had nothing to send him to the stake, nothing but a theory that even the savior himself would laugh at. He was going to an asylum instead of burned alive in front of hundreds.

"So you are saying I will not be convicted of heresy?" Fish replied in a mocking tone, "since you have nothing to convict me on."

Sir Thomas chuckled himself. Fish was falling into the same trap Moore knew far too well. They think by hiding their books from plain sight they were safe from a horrible and agonizing death. But Sir Thomas was clever, he knew what to look for…..something out of the ordinary.

Soon he found what he was looking for a picture twisted and crocked sideways. The humanist raised an eyebrow and made his way towards the picture.

"You innocent," Sir Thomas said putting both his large hands on the picture frame, "then what is this…."

He ripped the picture off wall and the heretic's look became a terrified one. There in plain view was a hole in the stone wall. In there was a pile of books from various names Moore had know so well. He reached in pulled out a stack of books. His eyebrows lifted in intrigue as he read the spine.

"Luther's 99 Theses?" Moore said with a growl. Before the bewildered Simon Fish could answer Moore threw the book across the room. The two guards spectating couldn't help but cringe at the sight.

"TYNDALE!" He growled again as he threw the next book in the pile, "and Jan Hus? I thought these books had long disentigated to ASH!"

He threw the last book across a room. As it flew a simple piece of parchment fell gracefully like a leaf to the ground. His dark eyes immediately gazed upon it. He took a long few strides before reaching down and picking it up off the floor.

"And let me guess is this a letter from Luther himself," He said as gently unfolded the paper. His eyes gazed upon it. No…this was not a letter from Luther himself but something far more shocking…..

_To my confessor, _

_I know what I am about to write to you is against god and against the king… but I must get this off my chest. For I am near death and I fear that if I do not confess this greatest sin, god won't consider even forgiving and cleansing my soul for what I have done._

_Thirteen years ago I have betrayed my husband. I was so angry with him after I caught him with one of my ladies that my weak mind decided that I should take revenge for what he done. So that night at the banquet I found an impaired drunken young lad. He was a handsome youth with dark eyes, dark haired and fair skinned. He is the son of the Lord Chief justice John Moore._

Sir Thomas took a sharp intake of breath. He must have dreaming. Yes he when he was a young boy, a drinker and a wild child to numb the pain of constant abuse inflicted by his father. He put that long dark period of his life in the back of his mind. However he did remember bits and pieces but most were blurry from the vast amount of alcohol he drink. One fuzzy memory he was ashamed to admit because he it was a grave sin, was that he slept with a woman, older than him…..maybe it wasn't him, she was talking about but one of his deceased brothers John or Edward.

But as he read further…..it was worse than he feared.

_Thomas his name is….I will not go into details. But despite scarred from something I can't even imagine he was beautiful. He was a gentle lover too, he was kind and shy. I don't think he remember, and I am glad he doesn't. It is safer that way but that is not even half the story. Six weeks later I found out I was pregnant…with my son…Harry._

_Harry's father isn't Henry Tudor I knew it because by then I haven't laid with Henry in months for he was busy with his mistresses…Harry's real father is Thomas Moore…his tutor. It was why I was so wary when he became Harry's tutor, though Moore does not know he acts so fatherly to Harry and Harry sees a father in Moore. Harry deserves it after the way his father has treated him. But neither Harry nor Moore must not know, for Harry though not a Tudor by blood, is the only male heir and legacy of Henry VII. If word gets out my son, my little boy will be in grave danger. So you must promise me that these words will stay between us and god._

_May god forgive me and save my soul,_

_Elizabeth of York, Queen of England. _

His head began to throb. NO…..NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! Harry couldn't be his son! It was impossible! He looked over the letter, seeing if this was a forgery. But sadly it was not, no one could mistake the handwriting of Elizabeth of York, Harry had mimicked it in his handwriting.

But he and Harry did not look alike at all. All of Moore's children had dark to dirty blonde hair and dark brown eyes. Harry has blue eyes and reddish brown hair. Moore was of average height and with the exeception of his upper arms and shoulders was scrawny looking. Harry was tall, muscular and big boned…..

Suddenly Harry's smile came to the mind's eye. It was a smile he knew well, not only because he had knew Harry so long because….it was the humanist's himself. Soon more similarities arose between him and his longtime student.

It was true they had plenty in common. They shared a love of reading, writing, music and the arts. Both can spend hours in an in depth philosophical conversation. Both were clever and sometimes knew facts that their fellow men wouldn't even bother to think about. As children they were both wild and loved to learn. They had the same inner strength and weaknesses. And both convulsed at the thought of pain, suffering and death.

Well, any two men could share the same interests, it did not mean they were related. It could just mean they could make two great friends.

But then he thought about the eerily shocking physical similarities. Their eyes may have not been the same color but they expressed the same determination, the same joy, the same sadness and the same passion when emotions ran through the. Their laughs were loud, long and hearty and had been said to be almost identical. They both had the tendency to twitch the upper lip that seemed to run amongst the men of the Moore family. Both had the strong shoulders that made them both look strong and powerful when they stood up proud amongst their fellow men. Finally they both at times got terrible headaches especially under stress.

There was no denying the truth when the physical evidence made the words that at first seemed so ridiculous…..but were the true facts.

But how could it be true if he didn't remember it.

He did remember the night he lost his innocence to an older woman. Then he woke up the next morning with a terrible headache and realized he committed a great and terrible sin. He had changed his wicked ways…he wanted to give her his great gratitude for saving him from damning his soul to hell. But he only remembered her name….Bess and she was a redheaded beauty just like Harry's…mother.

And then the blow came as quickly as a falling axe.

This older woman, this Bess was indeed…Elizabeth of York. It suddenly began to make sense, the reason why he cared so much about the king as if he was his child….was because he was his son!

With a shaking hand he folded the note and placed it in his pocket. The color by then had left his face and he began to feel faint. He paused to look at the guards and a very confused looking Fish.

"Lock him in the darkest cell of the tower," Sir Thomas said sheepishly as he began to stumble to the door. The urge to faint became stronger and stronger as the lawyer took a step further and further towards the door.

"My lord, are you alright?" One of the guards asked.

The only answer the guards received was a dull thud. The guards turned to find their Lord Chancellor unconscious on the ground.

Little did they know, he had fainted out of shock.

_**Reviews=Cookies XD!**_


	3. Moore's Dilemma

_**Thanks for the reviews and alerts please keep them coming I will be soo happy! And will make me feel good! **_

**Moore's Dilemma:**

_**Interlude #1: So Long Father, I'LL SEE YOU IN HELL!**_

_Moore found himself in a large crowd at the Tower of London. He looked ahead and realized that all these people were to witness an execution, he knew that by…..the black draped scaffold that was in the front of the crowd. His face turned white…a black draped scaffold meant only one thing….this was indeed an execution….of a royal. Oh no…it couldn't have been what he thought it was. He tapped the man next to him on the shoulder. _

"_Excuse me Sir," Sir Thomas asked in a polite tone, "do you know whose execution this is?"_

_The man next to him turned his head. His cold blue eyes shown nothing but distain towards him. The humanist gasped for he knew those eyes oh too well. They were the eyes of his political ally yet religious enemy…Thomas Cromwell. It wasn't the eyes that scared him, but the fact when he was mad they can show such hate did. Suddenly the raven secretary grabbed Moore by the collar and shoved him against the nearest wall._

"_You should know you lying, fake, piece of shit!" Cromwell growled as a crowd began to gather behind him, "it's your son's! Your flesh and blood who is about to die because of your deviant ways, god people like you make me sick! If it were my Gregory up there I would not let those bastards give me a slap on the wrist as they did for you….I would die with him."_

_Sir Thomas took a sharp breath._

"_My John," He winced, "but he would never do anything against his godfather. And I would die before I would let my children become a head shorter."_

_The crowd began to laugh and then a familiar voice called out:_

"_NO ME!"_

_Sir Thomas' eyes turned to the man standing on the scaffold. He was wearing a black doublet with the collar open so his neck would easily be exposed for the executioner to strike with his sharp axe. The humanist began to weep…._

"_Harry." _

_Harry's blue eyes began to stare a hole into him, the same eyes the humanist often bore when he was furious. _

"_Don't you Harry me," Harry growled as he leaned against the railing of the scaffold, gripping it tightly with his bare hands, "especially since it was inadvertently you who put me here and it was you who did nothing to rescue me from my fate!" He paused to look into the large gathering crowd, "before I die I have one last request, I would like to kill the man who put me here…MY FATHER!"_

_Before Sir Thomas even had time to comprehend that statement Cromwell released his collar only to be roughly pushed to the ground. He did nothing as he buried his face in the dirty ground and continued to weep as people kicked him, clawed at him to rip off his fine robes and doublet. One kick was so hard that he began to cough up blood. Afterwards, he felt his hands roughly being brought together behind his back and bound with heavy rope. He was roughly brought back to his feet and felt himself being dragged. He turned his head to the side and saw he was in the tight grips of Cromwell and Charles Brandon, Harry's closest friend._

_At the bottom of the scaffold stairs he saw another haunting sight, his four disappointed children glaring at him. He didn't know what hurt more, the pain that surged through his body or the fact that he hurt his four, sorry, five children. Meg stood with a angered expression on her face, Elizabeth had her arms resting on her hips and Cecily simply raised a solitary middle finger to send a clear message about how she felt about her father that very moment. The only one who seemed to show emotion was John who had tears pouring down their eyes._

_"My beautiful children I am so sorry," He cried to them._

_His three daughters did not budge but John made his way towards him. Sir Thomas thought of the three he would be the only one to say goodbye but no it was far from that….John simply spat in his face._

Sir Thomas began weeping even harder as he was brought to the top of the scaffold. His glassy dark eyes met Harry's blue eyes.

"_I deserve your punishment," Sir Thomas said in a weeping voice, "but please, please know I never meant for this happen, and I die Yours and God's good servant, but above all your father first."_

_Harry said nothing. He just punched his so called father in the face causing his nose to bleed._

"_You are not sorry Father," Harry growled, "and you never will be."_

"PLEASE HARRY BELIEVE ME!" Sir Thomas cried as he was forced the lay his head on the block. "I AM SORRY! I AM SORRY!" 

_The next thing he knew the axe had fallen and his world went black._

_**Whitehall A Few Hours Later**_

"I'M SORRY! I'M SORRY!"

When Sir Thomas Moore finally awoken, he began thrashing and screaming. He tried to open his eyes but everything was distorted. All he saw were shadows and blurred colors. He heard voices but they were distorted, they sounded like demons. He suddenly felt two people hold him down. He shook his head from side to side. Suddenly a voice, that same voice which was now the now the cause of all his problems, called out:

"IDIOTS, YOU ARE MAKING IT WORSE!"

The humanist suddenly felt himself being shaken awake. Soon the blurry became clearer. There were three men staring down at him. But he only saw one pair of eyes. The same pair of eyes that haunted him from the moment he found out they were like his in expression.

"Sir Thomas, wake up!"

Sir Thomas shot up in bed gasping for air. He buried his head in his hands and began to sob. He felt someone gently touch his shoulder. Another hand gently rubbed his back. He slowly lifted his head to seek the person who was comforting him.

"Harry," Sir Thomas said in a hoarse voice.

Harry smiled. It was the last thing the humanist wanted to see. Before this it was a joy to see Harry's smile but now that he found out…..the truth, he didn't see the smile he loved. He only saw his own face staring back at him. It was disgusting to him now, for it reminded him of his silly little mistake.

"It's alright dear Sir Thomas you were having a nightmare you're safe," He said.

The humanist turned his head away and closed his eyes.

"Harry," He said quietly, "I am alright I wish to be alone, I had a long day."

Harry turned his head to the two other men in the room. Moore immediately recognized them as Brandon and Cromwell, the same two men who handled him so roughly in his nightmare.

"You heard the man," Henry said before both men bowed their heads and left the room, "if you need me Sir Thomas you know where to find me."

And with that Harry left the room leaving the humanist alone to contemplate what he should do with this new and harrowing information.

Sir Thomas didn't leave his chambers for the rest of the day. He just sat in his favorite chair by the fireplace. A goblet of wine was in one hand and the note that turned his world upside down was in the other. Over and over he read it and soon, he had to accept the inevitable, Harry was his first child. He was not upset that he didn't know, he cared for Harry deeply. And being his father would make his affection towards Harry much more special. He was more upset that he didn't know and the fact that his son….his bastard son was the ruler of all of England and believed his whole life his father was a King. And worse if word got out…..lord knows what could happen.

Either one, which was the best case scenario, Harry could be forced to step down from the throne and hand it over to one of his sisters, and then be demoted to a Duke for his services as King. Two Harry would be angry at this fact and have Sir Thomas beheaded claiming he was a treasonous lying lunatic. Three, Harry would be overthrown by Plantagenet claimants, dragging Sir Thomas down with him, and they would both be beheaded. Or four which was unlikely, Harry would somehow try to link himself with some royal descendant, keep himself on the throne and everyone would go on their merry way without any sort of bloodshed.

Which lead to his dilemma…

Should Sir Thomas tell Harry that he, the man he looked up to since he was a mere boy of 12. The man he turned to when he had a problem. The man whose arms he fell into to weep and the man he spoke highly of was actually….for all these years was his father?

Truth was Harry probably would be enthralled that his real father wasn't as rude and hateful as the man who raised him. He did tell Sir Thomas that he wished he was his father even if it meant him losing the throne. Coincidentally Sir Thomas had to wished for Harry to be his son since he was so impressed at how clever he was.

Sir Thomas chuckled at the thought.

_Careful what you wish for right?_ He thought bitterly as he took a sip of his wine.

It would be a heavy burden lifted off his shoulders if he told the truth. But at the same time the consequences could be dire. Harry wouldn't want to believe his mother would was promiscuous and actually was unfaithful with his father. He saw his mother as a saint, it would traumatize him. To make matters worse he was unfaithful with the man he would eventually see as his savior! What could he believe? What else in his life was a lie?

But Sir Thomas wasn't the man to hide things from anyone, even this. So whether or not he finally spoke up about this rather troubling situation was a double edge sword, no one wins…

"Mi Amor," A familiar heavily accented voice said lifting him out his trance.

The humanist turned his head to find the one who was calling him. It was Katherine of Aragon, his future bride who meant the world to him. The reason she did was because he reminded him of Jane Colt, his first love. Ah a smirk formed across his lips as he remembered the life they had formed together and the four beautiful children into the world.

A frown reached his thin lips. Jane like Katherine knew about his horrible past (since he was comfortable bearing his soul to her) and the wild boy antics he took to numb his agonizing pain, but didn't know it had resulted in a son….a royal son for that matter. The moment she found out that Harry was his son she'd be rolling in her grave. But what worried him was how would Katherine react to this news….that her soon to be former husband was going to become her stepson, that her Mary who she thought so hard to keep in the line of succession was possibly not eligible to be Queen of England after all due to the fact her father was a bastard. 

Katherine was a strong woman which was why Thomas was so drawn to her. She could speak with such passion and suffer through such tragedy and horror. But along with her strength, came her fiery temper. A gut feeling told him Katherine would not be happy with this, but it was better to tell her the truth than hide it from her.

Soon he heard the sound of footsteps walking towards him. They were so soft it was like they were not able to make a single sound. Soon he felt a familiar presence sit on the armrest of the chair and a soft hand touch his shoulder. Sir Thomas closed his eyes as a soft pair of lips kissed his forehead. Usually he would enjoy such simple pleasures but these circumstances made him nervous. Soon it made Katherine take notice as well.

"Mi Amor, what is wrong?" Katherine said running a hand through his dark locks, "I am hearing all these things that are making me very concerned about you, one minute I hear you're ill, the next you are isolating yourself, what happened.

Sir Thomas sighed and turned his head towards Katherine, leaning his head into her soft caress. He may have been scared to tell her the truth, but her touches were too good for comfort. But now was not the time to be comfortable for this was a serious situation.

He took a deep breath. It was now or never. Either Thomas could immediately tell his beautiful and understanding bride to be that Harry was his son or keep silent and have Katherine force it out of him. Either way this was going to cause tension in their partnership. If he told Katherine she would not be happy that was for sure. But then again if he hid this shocking secret from her it would be against his principles. Thomas did not see marriage as a way to have children that would carry on his name. His idea of marriage was far from that. His view of marriage was a union of two souls who cared deeply about each other. One did not have superiority of the other each we were equal. They made decisions together and would weather through the storm together. Above all there was nothing they hid from each other….

With that thought it gave him an epiphany. How could he marry her when he couldn't even be honest with her now? He had to tell her the truth. Even if it hurt.

"Katherine," Sir Thomas said opening his eyes to look at her sternly, "I have something to tell you." He took her hand into his own and held it tightly. He wanted to at least savior one last moment of her embrace before she rejected him completely for his lies. "I have told you about my past and that woman I had premarital relations with."

Katherine chuckled as she placed her hand on his knee. She then lovingly rubbed his back with her hand.

"I told you Thomas," Katherine said resting her head on his broad shoulder, "I am not angry at you about that at all. I know you are not perfect but I still love you."

Thomas bowed his head to the ground and closed his eyes. _Will you still love me after I tell you or will you be repulsed by me and hate me for damaging Harry's and your daughter's lives? _He heard himself asking in his mind. It would be a test of how much she really did love him. If she really loved him would she stay by his side no matter what or would she run away. If she wanted to run away he would understand.

"It's more serious than that," Thomas said closing his eyes and looking into the raging fire, "I found out today that….it resulted in another son…"

Katherine lifted her head to look into Thomas' dark eyes. Those dark eyes which always showed such kindness and determination showed fear and worry. There was something terribly, terribly wrong. There was more to this story than the fact he for all this time had an illegitimate son out there.

"Thomas if this means that I will have to adjust to having another son I surely will," She said.

Thomas was relieved….just a little. He knew Katherine was accepting of his old sin. But that was the easy part. The hard part would be telling her who this illegitimate son was. God what would she think when she found out he was irresponsible enough to sleep with a Queen. He waited for a moment to gather his words before finally gaining the courage to speak again.

"But this son," He said turning his head away from her closing his eyes. He began to try to blink away the tears that were beginning to form in his eyes. "But son isn't just anyone, he is a man who I watched grow up into a bright and cunning young man, and a man who I care deeply about as if he were actually my own."

Katherine gasped, for she knew exactly who her beloved Thomas was speaking about…

"Thomas you are not saying…" She trailed off shocked.

"Yes Katherine," Thomas said tears falling down his cheeks, "Harry is my son."

There was silence. Only the sound of the crackling fire and the sound of the now pouring rain tapping on the glass. Neither knew what to say at this point. But suddenly the emotional dam had broken within him and Sir Thomas began to sob again. He buried his face in his hands once again. Katherine pulled him close and rested his head on her lap. She began to soothe him by cooing him and running her hand through his hair.

After a few moments of sobs Katherine lifted Thomas' head to look into her eyes. She stroked his tears away with her thumb. And then she smiled, oh Thomas loved when she smiled for the day got just a bit brighter.

"Thomas I am going to be your wife and accept you for better and for worse," Katherine said looking deep into his eyes, "but are you absolutely sure that you are Henry's father."

Thomas sniffed and wiped his tears away with his sleeve.

"I found a note written by Harry's mother," he said now resting his head on her shoulder and closing his eyes. His head was beginning to throb again, he lifted his hands and began massaging his temples with his fingers. He knew the headache would be so bad that even light would irritate him. "But after I read it I began to notice the similarities between Harry and I. We have the same interests and fears and sometimes act almost alike. And there was Harry's smile….it is like mine….too much like mine."

"You don't have to speak no more," Katherine said placing tiny kisses on Thomas' forehead hoping to alleviate the possible headache brewing within him, "I believe you."

Thomas took a deep calming breath. Some of the tension was leaving his body now. He then looked into her eyes and whispered

"But the question is what should I do," Thomas said, "should I tell Harry or should I not?"

"Well this question I need to think long and hard about mi amor," Katherine said with a deep sigh, "because I do need factor in how dangerous this could be to my Mary if word got out that you are her true Grandfather. Not that I mind I rather have you as her Grandfather then that evil, evil Henry VII."

Thomas couldn't help but somewhat chuckle at the comment. He was happy and just relieved that Katherine was by his side supporting him through all this. He smiled and closed his eyes even with this roadblock he knew he had a bright future with his beloved Katherine.

"I suggest you go to Bishop Fisher for advice in the meantime," Katherine said taking his hand into her own, "I know you are both not getting along at the moment but you know well Fisher gives you the best advice."

Thomas face turned somewhat into a frown. Fisher was the last person Moore wanted to see after all this and the incident between them before his world turned upside down. But Katherine was right. Fisher was the best bet for if he went to his normal confessor…Stephen Gardiner….he would speak nonsense on how the humanist can use this to fight heresy. And other than him marrying Katherine, Fisher never had a low opinion on Moore.

"You're right," Sir Thomas said looking deep into her eyes, he took her hand into his own and kissed it, "I don't know what I would do without you my sweet Katherine."

"And you will never have to worry," She said pressing her nose against his gently, "I am here to support you no matter what happens." 

"Good," Thomas said before placing a soft and gentle kiss on her lips.

And support was one thing he was going to need through this process. For if someone heard this shocking piece of news, he was bound to gain enemies. He just hoped the rest of the family loved him enough to stay by his side and support him through his struggles. For what he was about to endure was a test, a very challenging test, from god.

_**September 21**__**st**__** On The Trail To Westminster:**_

Sir Thomas left before the sun rose that morning to head to Westminster. He knew by leaving so early in the morning he would be back at court before Harry needed him. Everyone including the humanist, if there was a problem with the king and Sir Thomas Moore was nowhere to be found…..all hell would break loose. Usually he would travel by carriage but today he decided to travel by horse. He usually avoided horse travel, it wasn't that he hated the outdoors in fact it was the complete opposite. It was because of the nasty reputation and jokes he had associated it. One common joke was if you see Moore on a horse run in the other direction.

The joke came from his failed attempt to stop the "Evil May Day" Riots. Late one May Day night Harry summoned him to his chambers. He was told he was to go to Cheapside to quell a rebellion started by a bunch of disgruntled merchants who detested that England was being inhabited by foreigners. To make a long story short he rode into town in hopes to stop the riot. Well he managed to but as he rode away he pulled on the reigns a bit too hard. The next thing he knew he was in a puddle of water and the rioters went nuts. Despite the fact Harry was a little angry that he failed his task, he was there for him for his resulting broken leg. Back then it wasn't funny but now Sir Thomas could laugh at himself.

He always laughed at his mistakes.

Mistakes….he pondered the word as he rode out into the early morning. It wasn't dark but it wasn't too bright either. The sun was just beginning to slowly peak from behind the hills. It was a usually warm day but the warm breeze touched his face causing his dark cloak to flow freely behind him. He for the first time was calm and if he was calm it was easier to think. At the thought he stopped his horse.

What was he doing? Why was he making this long journey to ask a confessor for help? A confessor that he was angry at for acting so coldly towards him for no reason what so ever. He sighed, he couldn't turn to god for everything for help. For the most part god was there to guide him through the storms of life. He had to figure this out on his own.

He made his horse walk a slow trot before finding a spot by the river. He tied his horse and walked to the edge to the river and sighed. The sun was rising higher silhouetting the homes and buildings of the city of London. It was beautiful. Harry often talked about how grateful he was that his father was able pass down such a beautiful land for him to rule.

Moore snorted at the thought. If only Harry knew that his father, his true father, owned only a fraction of what Henry VII owned as King. Moore owned only a mansion in Chelsea, a few exotic animals from exotic lands and of course a shitload of books. He knew at some point he would get a title so he could be worthy enough to marry Katherine that would give him more land but nothing. But that didn't add to the real dilemma.

Should he or should he not tell Harry that he was his father? He had to weigh the pros and cons of telling Harry the truth.

Of course there was the cons. Again if he told Harry he knew the negatives. If Harry was lucky he would simply have to step down from the throne and get a few lands for his services. Or this could end bloody in two ways. There was scenario one where Harry's vainity would get the best of him and father or not Moore would be a head shorter. Or scenario two, where they are both violently overthrown and beheaded for treason, most likely at the same time.

Moore cringed at the thought. Since they were both afraid of pain and death, he knew if they didn't have time to prepare themselves for their bloody deaths they would not go down in dignity. He already pictured himself trying to hold his composure and basically be cationic. Harry in the meanwhile would make a bigger fool out of himself than him. He would literally be dragged onto the scaffold like a baby; he would be kicking, screaming and cursing at Moore for putting him this position. Both men would have to be held down by guard and both men would lose it once they placed their heads on the blocks.

Then there were the positives. Harry would have something that no other king has the luxury of having. He would have a father. Now he wouldn't have to wonder how proud and what his father was thinking about his reign. He had an adult to turn to for advice. He had someone to tell him that he was proud to have him as a son and tell him to continue to reach for the stars.

Harry never had that. His surrogate father Henry Tudor did not care for him at all. All he did was bully his son and tell him he was worthless, pathetic and would never be a good King. Moore had to fill in the pieces. Moore was the person who raised Harry from a scared, immature, and weak boy who no one had hope for ever making it to a King beloved by all and change the world. Moore, though he did not realize it till now did his job.

Did that mean he had to tell Harry he was his father when he was his father all along?

He closed his eyes for a moment. His gut had told him to forget it. Maybe Harry would figure it out eventually. Or he didn't need to know now but a different time maybe on Moore's deathbed.

But his heart told him something else. Harry was in a low period in his life. The whole world turned his back on him just because he made the mistake of letting himself fall in love. He needed someone to tell him that he or she would support him no matter what he did and what path he took. And Sir Thomas needed to take that job…..as his father.

He opened his eyes and looked out into the horizon. The sun was now poking from behind one of the tallest buildings of the London skyline. He knew what he had to do. He had to tell Harry the truth. It would better for him. And even if he died for this, he died with honesty. He took one last deep breath.

"I can do this," He whispered.

And with that Moore got on his horse and made his way back to Whitehall. The moment he rode towards the rising sun he began to collect his thoughts in order to tell Harry the most shocking piece of news he would ever hear in his life.

_**Remember I will be the most happy if someone says a few words I will be happy and youll get cookies.**_


	4. The Confrontation

_**Here is the next chapter and yes….I am passing NaNo in flying colors. Enjoy!**_

**The Confrontation:**

_**Whitehall, September 21**__**st**__** 1531**_

Henry sat in his office trying to read over some documents, but was in vain. He couldn't concentrate. There was too much on his mind. Anne was still complaining about it taking too long for the pope to grant the divorce. Really she was impatient. Katherine was literally stepping aside for her. She was lucky Katherine as stubborn as she usually was. The Henry would understand if Katherine wasn't stepping down so easily, then there would be problems. But Anne had to get what she wanted.

Now Anne was suggesting he just split from Rome and just get the divorce himself. The idea sounded appealing, but he wanted to avoid it. It was not because of the damage this dramatic split would cause, but he was afraid this route would disappoint one person...Sir Thomas Moore

Henry didn't know why he was so afraid to disappoint Sir Thomas….he wasn't even his father. But there was one true fact….Moore was the closest thing to a father he had. MOORE was the one who encouraged him growing up. MOORE was the one who taught him about "grown up" things like changes in the body and the "birds and the bees." Henry couldn't help but snicker when he remembered how beat red the Man of All Seasons' face was because of this awkward topic. It was MOORE who attended all his plays and jousting matches when he was still a prince to cheer him on. And damnit it was MOORE who came to his aid when he was sick and comforted him when he was down. Moore still did that even though Henry was a grown man. Did Henry VII do that NO! He did shit, just criticized his son on everything he did and bullied him. Henry feared if he made the mistake of breaking the church, Moore wouldn't care for him anymore.

Suddenly the sound of the door opening interrupted him from his thoughts. Henry lifted his head and saw a page boy standing by the door.

"Your majesty," The page boy began, "the Lord Chancellor is here to see you."

Henry stood up and smiled, what perfect timing for him to arrive. Maybe a nice stimulating conversation with Moore would lift his spirits.

"Send him in," Henry said excitedly.

Moore followed behind the page boy. From the moment Sir Thomas Moore walked in, Henry knew something was wrong. Moore was shaking, he looked pale and sickly. He even looked as though he was going to collapse when he bowed.

"Sir Thomas," Henry said crossing himself and mentally praying for the well being of his Lord Chancellor, "You look horrible, are you ill?"

Sir Thomas waited until they were the only two men left in the room to finally speak. Henry's heart began to race.

"Harry I have something to tell you," he said in a shaky voice, "I suggest you sit down."

Henry was hesitant for a moment but eventually pulled out a chair for himself and sat down. The next thing he knew Moore knelt before him and placed his large hands on his knees. His heart was beating even faster than before; he heard the blood rushing towards his ears. He witnessed his chancellor do this when he had a serious conversation with his children. Henry began to fear the worst. Did Moore commit an act of treason? The king prayed not. He knew he could never ever bring himself to sign Moore's death warrant. Or worse Moore came to tell him that he was dying from a very grave illness and Henry should prepare himself to look for a new Chancellor! His world would fall apart if that were the case he needed Moore to guide him.

Henry began chewing the inside of his mouth, for he was very antsy to know what Moore had to say. And the eerie silence between them did not help him at all.

Finally for what seemed like hours Moore bowed his head towards the ground. He took a deep shuddering breath before lifting his head to look into the king's blue eyes once again.

"Harry," He began with watery dark eyes and a cracking voice, "when I first set eyes upon all of my children, the first thing I felt for them was a strong and natural love. From the moment I held them in my arms I knew I was always going to love them, I was always going to be there for them when they were upset, I was always going to be there to wipe the tears away from their eyes and I was going to be the one to help them grow and reach their full potential. And with that I made it my mission to follow these principles as their father."

Henry raised an eyebrow. Now he was confused, was Moore trying to tell him to love his children no matter what they did and what gender they were. This whole conversation, Moore's actions and behavior puzzled him. He decided to listen further on what Moore had to say.

"From the moment I first set my eyes upon you that April night," Moore continued with tears now escaping from his eyes, "I fell in love with you, not the love you are probably thinking of but the love a parent has for his or her child. I felt naturally drawn to take care of you and watch you grow. And when you were eighteen, and I saw you on the throne at your coronation I cried I was so proud of you. For I raised you right to be strong, kind and handsome man."

He then paused to gently take Henry's face in his hands. Henry was now more puzzled than he was at the beginning of this awkward conversation. He knew Moore acted fatherly, Henry wanted that, but never this fatherly where he would actually cry at his accomplishments. Henry sat there with an awkward smile on his face. He was speechless he didn't know what to say. Finally he gathered up the words to say.

"Moore what are you trying to tell me that you want me to be your adoptive son," He said with a nervous chuckle, "listen you are my father Sir Thomas, we may not be bonded by blood...but you basically took on that role."

Soon Moore got up from his feet and looked down at Henry with his stern brown eyes.

"Harry it's more than that," Moore continued as he began to pace back and forth. Henry jerked upright in his seat, now he was at the point where his confusion was so deep, his understanding was far from being salvaged from the rubble. "I have confided in you about my father. He was abusive and would beat me so badly…I couldn't move at points. To numb this pain I became a wild boy and drink until my mind went blank. When I was about fourteen my wildness and drinking reached its peak. I was so drunk; I made love to a woman older than me….my wild boy antics ended after that. I wanted it to be so behind me. But yesterday…." He paused and pulled out a piece from his pocket, "I found this note…..and the past came back to haunt me…for I found out this union produced a son."

Henry took a sharp breath. He couldn't believe what Moore was telling him. Well he obviously knew Moore was not a saint he had four….five children. But this was such a powerful and shocking piece of news, why was he telling him unless….no. It couldn't be. Soon the note Moore was carrying was in his hands was on his lap.

"Read the note Harry everything is there," Sir Thomas said softly.

Henry brought the note to the view of his eyes. He then stood up from his chair and began pacing back and forth reading the letter. His eyes widened he knew that hand writing well. He remembered when he was younger he mimicked it on his quest to learn how to write. It was the handwriting of yet another person he loved and admired deeply. But unlike Moore she was long gone now, dead from grief of the loss of two children in such a short period.

"This is a letter from my mother," Henry said quietly.

His blue eyes skimmed the words. Apparently his so called sainted father was not so saintly after all. Henry snarled at that, wondering if that was where his unfaithfulness which plagued him his whole reign came from the man he despised-

And then he began to read further and the next sentences made his stomach tie itself in knots:

"_My weak mind decided that I should take revenge for what he done. So that night at the banquet I found an impaired drunken young lad. He was a handsome youth with dark eyes, dark haired and fair skinned. He is the son of the Lord Chief justice John Moore."_

His heart skipped a beat. No! NO! His mother would never do such a thing. She was a saint, always faithful to her husband. His eyes moved to the bottom of the page to see if this letter was a forgery but no one could copy his mother signature so accurately. His eyes went to reread the letter but before he got to the top of page his eyes stopped at a set of words that shattered his world completely:

_Harry's father isn't Henry Tudor I knew it because by then I haven't laid with Henry in months for he was busy with his mistresses…Harry's real father is Thomas Moore…his tutor._

Henry let out a sob. He didn't want to believe it. He wished this letter was a fake, a forgery. But there was no mistaking his mother's unique handwriting. He read the letter over and over again. His hands shaking vigorously. With red and watery eyes, he looked up from the letter and looked into his mentor and father figure's dark, dark eyes. They too were filled with tears.

"Thomas…please tell me it isn't true." Henry said in a shaky voice, "please tell I am not your bastard son."

Henry watched as Moore once again sternly looked into his blue eyes. 

"Yes Harry, I am your father." He replied quietly.

Henry suddenly became weak in the knees. This had to be some horrible dream that he would soon awaken from. His whole life he believed he was Henry Edward Tudor, great grandson of Owen Tudor who won the heart of Katherine of Valois and death remained legendary, son of Henry VII who started the great Tudor Dynasty after defeating Richard III. But that was all a lie. His father wasn't a great king who started a dynasty; the highest he reached was Lord Chancellor. But that wasn't the worst of it. The worse was that his life was a lie. He was a bastard.

He heard his father in his head mocking him.

_I knew it, _the voice said, _I knew you weren't mine, no son of mine would be so stupid, sensitive and emotional with a sharp tongue like his father, his REAL father who is nothing but a fucking lawyer. You don't deserve to be king. You're just a bastard….an insignificant bastard!_

"NO!" He cried as his knees gave out and fell to the floor now he was balling his eyes out. His heart was racing. He was struggling to breathe. He buried his head and began to sob. "I am not a bastard, I am not a bastard how can I be I am the King of England."

He collapsed onto the floor burying his face in the ground. He looked a scared little mouse from an observer he looked like a scared timid mouse retreating at the sight of something way bigger than its own boy. He wept so loudly that his body was shaking vigorously in fear.

"What's going to happen to me if word gets out!" He cried out loudly, "I don't want to die!"

Suddenly he felt a hand touch his shoulder. Henry cringed and recoiled away at the touch. He didn't need comfort not here not now as comforting as they were to him. The hand continued to rub his back in a comforting motion. A soft voice began to make a hushing sound. He felt himself unconsciously crawling towards the voice. He laid his head gently into his comforter's lap. He heard a sniff before he felt a hand running through his hair. He adjusted his head slightly. He knew whose comforting embrace he was in. It was the comforting embrace he so often turned to when times were at their worst.

He was confused. He wanted to get away from this man who was now merely just an imposter to him.

"Harry, dear Harry," Sir Thomas….scratch that his _father_ said in that calming voice of his, "everything will be okay as long as we can keep it between us."

Henry snapped his head up from Sir Thomas' lap. His watery blue eyes looked at the man he thought he knew with such rage. His life was just flipped upside down and the only thing the man could tell him was that everything was going to be okay.

"Are you a moron?" He growled, "I am a bastard! YOUR BASTARD! What is going to happen to me if I am found out! I can die!"

He took deep breaths and slowly maneuvered himself to his feet. He looked down at the man he had to accept as his father. The man of all seasons remained on his knees with his head bowing towards the ground.

"I need to be alone to think," Henry said with tears in his eyes, "I want you to hide this letter so it is not easily found and we'll figure this out when we are not two emotional fools."

Before Sir Thomas could say anything else Harry was gone. He stood up and wiped the rest of his tears away with his sleeve. He took a few deep cleansing breaths. He had to pull himself back together so he could at least look like there was nothing wrong. When he gained his composure he placed the letter in the pocket of his cloak before walking out the door of his office.

Meanwhile unknowing to both father and son there was an older gentleman watching their confrontation. He smiled as he took a sip of his wine. He wanted this, a bitter conflict between father and son. Everything was going according to plan, soon both men would know the lesson of going against god's will.

_**Wondering what happens next**__….__**look up "The Angry German Kid" on youtube. **_

_**Tootles **_


	5. Harry's Dilemma

_**Thanks everyone for the reviews this chapter goes out to all the Crommies since this chapter will be Cromwell centric. I swear when you read the end you will squee!**_

_**Warning:**__** Crazy Henry , what else is new, Cursing and Homosexual undertones (For them bigots out there press the X button if you hate slash) And this chapter is long as fuck! **_

**Harry's Dilemma:**

Henry walked the halls in a hurry. To spectators, they already realized there was something terribly wrong with their king. But they didn't even bother to question. It wasn't the first time they saw their majesty in distress. So they didn't even bother to question their king's sanity at the moment. Henry didn't care he wanted to be alone. No one could know this shocking truth about his paternity.

Soon Henry found solace behind the closed doors of his rooms. The moment he shut the door, he just stood there with his back leaning against the wall. Motionless, he just stared ahead for just one silent moment and then...

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Henry lost it and not an inch of furniture or room adornments were spared. He ripped paintings off the wall. He pulled curtains down from the window and ripped them to shreds. He slammed pillows against the wall causing them to explode into fireworks of feathers. Glass shattered and ornate chairs were broken. Soon the tidy room looked as though as storm blew through it destroying everything in its wake. The only thing that remained intact was the mirror. For he needed it later.

Henry fell to the floor and lied on his side. He then pulled his knees close to him rocking himself back and forth, back and forth. All his life had been a lie. He was not who he thought he was, Henry Tudor son of King Henry 7th founder of a great dynasty. But a bastard, he was the bastard son of the great Humanist Scholar and Man of All Seasons Sir Thomas Moore. Oh god what was going to happen to him? What was going to happen to his kingdom?

Suddenly he heard the door creak open. Footsteps came walking towards him. Henry didn't even bother to lift himself off the ground. He just prayed it wasn't Moore. His lying bastard father was the last person he wanted to see. But it wasn't. Next to him he saw a shadow of a female figure. He knew that female figure well. It was that thin, bony, tall figure with a long neck he fell madly in love with. It was the body of his future bride Anne Boleyn.

Anne was an exotic yet beautiful creature. She was not like most women of the age. She was sharp tongued and well educated it was fun to have an interesting and stimulating conversation with her. She had long dark hair and dark eyes, a feature which was not usually seen amongst English men...except for Moore. He cringed further. Why wasn't the bastard leaving his mind alone. He damaged him enough already!

He felt a presence kneel next to him and rubbed his back slowly. Henry cringed for a moment before crawling into Anne's lap, resting his head there for comfort.

"Hush my love," she said in her soft sing song voice as she rsn a hand through his hair, "it's going to be alright. Please tell me what happened."

Henry remained still for a moment. Though Anne was to be his bride Henry didn't know if he could trust Anne with this shocking, damaging and deadly situation.

"I can't tell you about it," Henry said.

"You can tell me," Anne said in a comforting tone.

Henry sat up and wiped away his tears away with his sleeve. Anne was right. He was going to marry her right, why not trust her now? It was also the ultimate test of love. Would Anne still love him even if he wasn't who she thought he was?

"Fine just DONT TELL ANYONE...I am not who you think I am," Henry said turning away, "I found a letter today from my mother. She said I was conceived with a man who wasn't my father."

Anne literally felt her heart stop beating for a moment. She wondered who this other man was. Plus she knew her father was not going to be happy once she told him this twist in the plot. Well maybe if the father was someone allied with her family and hopefully not some Seymour. She decided to inquire further so she can have plenty of information she could tell her father.

"Who is it?" she asked with curious eyes.

Henry took a deep breath.

"Someone who was like a father to me all along." He said smirking amongst the tears at the irony, "Sir Thomas Moore...how ironic, I wished him to be my father...careful what you wish for right?"

The color suddenly drained from Anne's face. Henry's father, his true father was someone far worse than a Seymour….it was Sir Thomas Moore. She loathed Moore. It wasn't because he was with Katherine her rival. It wasn't because he was some uptight fanatic who got a kick out of burning people. It wasn't even because every time the two came face to face it led to a heated argument. It was because Anne knew well if the both of them were forced to lay their heads on the block and Henry was made to choose which one lives and which one becomes I head shorter…Henry would choose Moore.

Oh it made her blood boil that he was more important to the King than she was. SHE, she of all people who was going to give him the son he often prayed for. She prayed that no one would find out because she rather not see Henry get hurt. But she knew with this new information she would again be second best to Thomas fucking Moore….unless…..

She could use this. She can use this to finally be rid of that no good god forsaken Thomas Moore once and for all. Especially since Henry was at a vulnerable point. Anne knew well that anytime Henry was at a low point with his emotions, anyone and anything could influence Henry's decisions in the other direction. Maybe he can be swayed to execute Moore. With that she would once and for all have all the influence on Henry.

"Your majesty," Anne said, "I shall remain by your side no matter what but you should seriously consider executing Moore. He could use this against you!"

Henry stood up appalled. So it came to this! The known hatred against each other has led to this! Now Anne was suggesting that she execute Moore. If there was no evidence that he wasn't his father, because it was clear that the letter wasn't a forgery, if Moore wasn't as important to him as he was, Henry would consider sending Moore to the block for his lie. But it wasn't a lie. Execution was completely out of the question now!

"Oh yeah I should execute Moore!" Henry growled, "then I should behead the Duke of Suffolk for being my brother and law. And my daughter Mary for being conceived by Katherine and not you."

Anne gave her husband to be a sheepish look. She didn't expect this kind of a harsh reaction.

"Sorry if I was protecting you-" She began.

"FROM MY FATHER!" Henry growled, "Yes it is his fault that I may be thrown off the throne, but he is still my father. It was his seed that helped create me, his blood runs through my veins. I cannot send my own blood to the block no matter how treasonous he acted or will act in the future, that will make me a tyrant!"

As Henry said that, tears fell down his eyes. His face became red with anger at the thought of Anne's suggestion. He turned to look at the mirror. He didn't see his face he saw Moore's. Though his eyes weren't dark as Moore's they were still shaped like his. It proved to Henry one thing, if Moore died on his command a little of himself would die along with it. He continued to look at himself in the mirror and did not even dare to turn back to look at Anne. He needed advice from someone wiser, more honest (other than Moore of course) and didn't have some hidden agenda against Moore, or him for that matter. And he knew exactly who he was going to talk to.

"I want you to leave." Henry said

And with not even a word of protest, Anne bowed and scurried out the door. When he was finally alone in the room he plopped down on his mangled bed and closed his eyes. He prayed a good afternoon name would clear his thoughts.

* * *

Thomas Cromwell was rather surprised that the king had invited him to dinner. Actually he was rather surprised that the king was found of him at all. He only opened his mouth about his opinion on his protestant religion, and suddenly the king took interest in him. After hours of Henry's weird unknown fascination with him, next thing he knew he was made Master of the Rolls and became a member of the King's Privy Council. This was the polar opposite of what Cromwell thought was going to happen. He thought the king was going to throw him out full body the moment he told the King he was the son of a drunken convicted felon who was hanged for murder, and then afterwards his traumatized son fled to France to be a mercenary.

But no, he didn't. The King listened on with intrigue. Cromwell wound up concluding that the reason why the King was interested in him was the same reason people like Wolsey and Moore were interested in him. He was a walking case of bad luck. With that Cromwell also concluded people liked him because either one they felt bad for him or two they would hear Cromwell's story and realize their lives weren't as bad as his and they would feel better about themselves.

The truth was they thought (even enemies) Cromwell was pretty brave. But Cromwell didn't want to believe it. He often feared after mentally associating this with the traumatic events of his life, if he was happy and satisfied with his life, god was going to swoop down and plague him with misery once again.

As Cromwell walked the halls to where he was meeting the king, he ran his hand through his dark curly locks. He wondered how he went from crying himself to sleep at night to having dinner with the king. He even wondered what matter was so important that he needed him specifically and without any notice.

It had to be an important matter if the invitation such short notice... Which caught him off guard. Usually when Henry had such a dire situation he would call to Sir Thomas Moore to rant his problems to. But the fact that Moore was not called this time struck him, maybe MOORE was the problem.

Before he could ponder the situation further he was at the king's door.

"Mr. Cromwell the king said to send you in as soon as you arrive." The page boy said opening the door.

Cromwell raised an eyebrow. He only knew of one man who could slip into the king's chambers...especially during an urgent situation...Moore...it was obviously about Moore.

When he walked into the king's chambers he expected a grand feast that was no pun intended fit for a king. He also expected the king to be joyful and merry. But nope it was far from that. It was just the king sitting there with two goblets and a pitcher of wine. Cromwell didn't mind he was a bit of a wine snob, but there was something off about the mood of this setting. But Cromwell couldn't quite put his finger on it yet.

He went to bow but was immediately interrupted.

"Just sit down Crum," The king barked.

Cromwell tried not to visibly scrunch his face. He honestly hated that the king's pet name for him was Crum. The name sounded like "scum" which meant someone was sleazy and disgusting. But the king liked to call him that so he didn't question it. But it was the abrupt order for him not to bow that concerned him. He wondered what Moore he assumed since he was nowhere to be found, had done to make the king act this way.

"Your majesty," he said quietly as he went to sit down.

"Crum how many times have I told you," the king barked, "Call me Henry! You've known me too long to deserve that honor."

"Sorry Henry," Cromwell replied pulling out a chair before settling down. Henry then passed the wine over to Cromwell so he could pour himself a drink.

"You are wondering why I asked you over here Crum," Henry said with as Cromwell poured himself a goblet. He always had a slight fascination with Cromwell's love for wine. He had some sort of strange protocol before he would drink. He would shake the goblet around for a while before drinking in the bitter yet sweet taste, "I am about to confide with you is top secret…you must promise me you will not tell a soul.." He paused to look sternly into Cromwell's eyes, "if you do I will have you dragged to the tower, tortured to the point where every bone in your body is broken and then have you executed by a shitty executioner who will hack at you before he actually strikes your head off…DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME YOU MUST NOT TELL A SOUL?"

"MAJESTY!" Cromwell said with a shocked and appalled tone, he was also a bit curious about the secret Henry was going to confide him in, did he have another mistress, did he kill someone, maybe he loved other men which was he slept with so many women. He also quite honored to have his majesty trust him enough to tell such a secret.

"Henry…." Henry grumbled lowly.

"Henry," Cromwell replied lowly as he continued to slightly shake his goblet of wine his blue eyes looked directly into Henry's blue eyes, "I promise even on pain of death you secret will be safe with me."

Henry looked closely into Cromwell's eyes. They were indeed trust worthy and honest, which was why he got Cromwell here in the first place…..he knew he could trust him.

"Alright," Henry said with a sigh, "I found a letter from my mother today. I didn't want to believe it nor did I want to believe my mother wrote it, but it was her handwriting and it revealed a shocking truth…" Henry paused as Cromwell lifted his goblet of wine to take a sip, the other man's blue eyes gleamed with intrigue "my father is not Henry VII….it's Sir Thomas Moore."

Cromwell choked a little on his wine whilst impolitely spitting it out of his mouth. He was a bit embarrassed at that since he wished to keep his emotions to himself but this was a shocking circumstance. Did Henry really just say, Sir Thomas Moore, the religious fanatic, heretic hating, too moral for words man of all seasons was THE KING'S TRUE FATHER? No way! This was some kind of sick prank by Henry's enemies to throw him off the throne! It was impossible! Henry did not have the dark Moore features and Cromwell could find no other common physical similarities between the two men other than the fact they both happened to have broad shoulders.

This was not good! It was not as good for Henry! Nor was it as good for Moore! And it was probably the worst for the reformation! It was not that Moore wasn't a good person, Cromwell admired his view on social reform amongst England…but Moore's vendetta against Protestantism was frightening even to Cromwell who had saw death more than he even had to. He must have got it from his good for nothing strict father….Cromwell pushed that out of his mind to focus at the topic at hand.

_Well it was a good try, _the raven secretary thought to himself; _guess I am going to have to bite my tongue at Catholic views! _

There was nothing but silence between the two of them. Just the sounds of the pouring rain tapping onto the window, the fire crackling in the fireplace, and the sound of their breathing filled the room. There were only blank and confused stares towards each other. Finally the sound of the thunder crackling and a flash in the room shot them both of their trance.

"Your majesty," Cromwell began finally, finally breaking the silence.

"Henry!" Henry growled again rolling his eyes, wondering if Cromwell would ever get the hint. Especially since, if this situation were to blow out of proportion, he would have to be referred to by Henry for then on in. "Get it right even if you have to practice saying it to your mirror."

Cromwell couldn't help but slightly smirk at the suggestion, especially since before he came to court he did actually practice addressing courtiers in front of a mirror so he could make a great first impression. But he brought himself back to focus quickly. He quickly gathered up why it was impossible for Moore to be the father of King Henry VIII in his mind.

"Henry forgive me," The secretary said now forming his face in a serious expression, "First of all Sir Thomas is 14 years older than you it troubles me to think a 13 year old managed to get into the bed of a Queen," Cromwell did had a point, though he shouldn't talk by the time he married his beloved Liz may god bless her soul, the two of them were far from innocent by the time they married each other. Again he had to resist the urge to smirk at the memories, "Second of all, I know you how close you are to Sir Thomas and I know how much you have in common when it comes to personalities and interests, but I don't see any physical resemblance between of you. All of Moore's children have dark hair and dark eyes….you have the opposite of the features, you have blue eyes and reddish brown hair."

"To answer your first question," Henry said taking a swig of his wine, "have you met his father Lord John Moore."

Did Cromwell know Lord John Moore? Oh yes he did! That cruel spineless bastard was the man who sentenced his father to die! Cromwell remembered before his father's fate was decided he was allowed to plead for his father's life. Cromwell was honest by saying though his father Walter Cromwell was abusive he was still his father and being in a damp cold cell would be far worse than death. Instead of being moved by the condemned's son speech, John Moore just laughed and called Cromwell weak and pathetic for defending a scum before reading. That added to the long list of traumatic experiences he had went through in his life. And that moment he wished to share with no one.

"No I don't," Cromwell said again admiring himself in his ability to lie about such things.

"Good," Henry said waving his hand in the air, "Bastard is the scum of the earth, Sir Thomas…." Henry paused, he felt odd about referring to his true father as "Sir Thomas" rather than "father". Was it wrong to call him father? Maybe it would be his first step to accepting he was a bastard. "Sorry…my father," He continued feeling a bit more at ease, "told me that his father….my grandfather…. And you didn't hear this from me Crum because he doesn't like talking about it…anyway my grandfather would beat my father to the point where he couldn't even move….bastard."

Henry growled at took another swig at his wine at the thought.

Cromwell clenched his jaw shut. He didn't know whether it was the wine or lack of sleep slaving away over his documents, but now he was confused. This conversation was going in so many different directions he couldn't even concentrate. One minute Henry was threatening him, the next he was telling him Moore was his father, now he found out the man who sentenced his father to death for his brutality towards his family was actually a brutal abuser himself?

_FUCKING HYPORCRITE! _Cromwell mentally snapped. But he would not show his anger now, he would show his anger later by shooting arrows at an defenseless target.

"Anyway when my father was a teenager he turned to drinking to numb the pain his father hath put him through," Henry said, "one night, he got drunk, and blacked out. That night he had lost his virginity to older woman." He twisted his face at the thought especially since he did not expect his mentor and father figure to do such sinful things then again he was young and Henry knew well when you are young you do foolish things. "My Father does not remember a thing about it so I thought it was some random rich courtier in my surrogate father's court, but when I read the letter from my mother, sweet mother who always thought was a saint, it collaborated his story."

"But your- I mean Henry," Cromwell said he was glad he finally got that right, "but what if the letter was a forgery written by one of your enemies to get you off the throne and Moore to the block?"

"Because Crum," Henry said looking out the window to the stormy rainy night, "I know my own mother's handwriting, though I have not seen it since I was child, I remembered it well, for I loved my mother and know that one, not soul could mimic her distinctive handwriting. As for your second doubt as to Moore being my father I thought the same thing, until I found this."

Henry slid over to Cromwell a miniature version of the famous Holbein portrait done of his father. There was a bigger version of this portrait hanging in Moore's home in Chelsea and often Henry found himself gazing at the portrait. Holbein was able to catch every essence of Moore's one of a kind personality. From his modesty to his bravery, from intelligence to his kindness, it was all there. And every time Henry looked at it he felt of security and strength. After noticing his fascination with the picture, Moore immediately ordered that Holbein make the same image in a smaller form so Henry could have one for his own viewing.

"Look at this portrait Crum then look at my face," Henry said before positioning himself like his father did in the portrait, "then you shall see the resemblances between my father and I."

Cromwell thought it was a little strange that Henry was so open into describing Moore as his father. But then again it was a quite the honor Henry was sharing this piece of sensitive information with him. With a sigh the secretary lifted the picture directly in front of his eyes. Cromwell tried to study Moore's details other than his famous dark features, the shape of his eyes, the shape of his mouth and what expression they formed.

He then moved the picture slightly to the side and raised both his eyebrows in alarm. He didn't want to believe it but the evidence was there. They may have not had the same traits, the same rare dark features that distinguished Moore from the rest of the Englishmen. But they shared the same face. The same determined smirk and prominent brow. And when he looked into Henry's eyes, Cromwell knew the king's blue eyes bared the same joy when they lit up, the same salvation when one looked for comfort and advice, the same determination and victory, the same kindness (though one had to look deeper for that one), the same passion and the same love Moore's dark eyes often bared to the world. The only thing that was different about their facial expressions was their noses.

Then again Cromwell knew well that Moore had the biggest nose of all of England and Moore himself couldn't deny that either. He slightly snickered at the thought and brought himself back to focus. He could no longer deny the facts now, he no longer saw Henry VIII, King of England, but saw Sir Thomas Moore, the Man of All Seasons staring back at him instead.

"Do you see it now?" Henry said finally shifting out of his position and disturbing Cromwell from his thoughts.

He brought the portrait down for a second before bringing it back up next to the King's face before putting both faces side to side to compare once again.

"Well the resemblances are rather striking," Cromwell said before placing the portrait back down onto the table, "I can see your facial expressions show the same emotions as Moore's. Well your majesty do you know how you are going to handle this situation?"

"I was going to ask you for advice," Henry said staring at him with a smirk on his face. It was the same smirk that often grazed Moore's face.

Cromwell never showed any sort of emotion but the moment the King said those words his mouth gaped open. Along with that the color slightly drained from his cheeks. Yes the king turned to him for advice on the little things such as politics but nothing this big or this personal. In fact he hoped he never ever had to get himself involved in such personal affairs of the king especially after he witnessed what happened to Wolsey (who Cromwell his "Sir Thomas Moore").

_FUUUUUUUUUUCK!_ Cromwell cursed in his mind _what if I mess up? What if I guide him down the wrong path? _

"Me?" He said lowly, "why me? Why not someone you known for a while like the Duke of-"

He stopped himself when he felt a soft hand touched his forearm. He looked down to see that it was the King's hand. It comfortingly ran up and down the usually hidden muscular build. He lifted his head back up and blinked once again. The king had moved closer to him and he didn't even notice because his nerves overcame him.

"Because Crum," Henry said again with that silly little pet name he gave to his secretary and with sympathetic eyes, Moore's sympathetic eyes, "I know you are a father, and I know how much you love your son I have seen how close the two of you are, it is rumored you put your son before yourself…"

Cromwell again could not control his emotions and had an involuntary smile form across his lips. His son Gregory was everything to him, as were his two daughters Anne and Grace. When his wife died, his two beautiful girls followed her. It was just he and Gregory that remained. Cromwell saw himself in his son for the two of them shared the same experience, seeing death at a young age. Helping his son heal from the losses of his mother and sisters, he was able to heal his own wounds of his past. His son was the reason he awoke in the morning without his son, his rock, his hero, he was nothing.

"Your love for your son tells me you have excellent parental instincts," Henry said as he continued to rub his arm reassuringly Cromwell didn't want to think such a thing but it relaxed him especially since he barely got kind gestures since the death of his wife and he often missed the feeling. "So I ask you though I know, it is impossible since you were 7 when I was born," he chuckled and took a sip of his wine, "if you were in Moore's position. What would want your son to do? Would you want him to accept you no matter what the risks?"

Cromwell thought for a moment. Again, this was a tough question to answer. He had to think from his heart on this one. His childhood was turbulent. It was filled with nothing with pain despair and agony. He never really knew what it was like to be loved, to be protected, to have someone encourage him to grow. He only learned hatred from his no good for nothing father who did nothing but bring him down. Well it wasn't exactly true. His mother cared for him deeply. Though she was too afraid to defend him because of the beatings she also received, she would tend to his wounds after the beatings he received and make sure he slept soundly. However there was one time she did finally have the courage to stand up against her husband.

That streak of courage would be her last. Cromwell remembered that night vividly. They were fighting over the future, their son's future. His father said something that they should give their son a higher education so he could rise to be the family's cash cow, then joked that they will have enough alcohol to last the rest of their lives. She retorted by replying to her husband that he was stupid enough to think that their son would help him after treating like garbage his whole childhood. The next thing he knew Cromwell's beloved mother was tossed to the floor and was bludgeoned to death by his father.

His father wound up being hanged for that. Both his parents were gone. He had no one to love him and no one to tell him everything was going to be okay. He had to face it on his own. Oh how Cromwell longed for a parental like figure to hold him and help him through the storm. But then his mind turned to Gregory once again, since the king had asked him what he would want as a father. Gregory had often told him that it was his father that helped him through the storm and he was often grateful that god blessed him with such a loving father who would put himself before his children. And Cromwell felt blessed that god gave him the gift of being a father.

And with that he thought of the right advice to give to his King.

"Well if it were me," Cromwell said, "I would at least want my son to acknowledge that I am his father. He does not have to accept me, but it would put me at ease to know my son knows that there is someone out there that cares about him deeply no matter what he does or what path he takes in life."

Henry groaned before taking a sip of his wine. However he kept lightly caressing the other man's arm. He didn't know why it was so but it seemed to relax him. He knew it was wrong to show such affection to another man especially but it was the comfort he needed at that moment.

"I was hoping you would say the opposite," Henry grumbled, "especially since you and Moore don't see eye to eye on religious matters."

"Well the reason I am encouraging you," Cromwell said again looking into Henry's eyes, "is because you now have a rare gift over every other king in this world does not have, you have a father to support and protect you and a parent is something you need right now especially since this is a rather stressful tie for you. And Moore has given you nothing but unconditional love from the moment you both met."

Cromwell was right. Henry was given a rare opportunity. He had a father! He had a father that would care for him and love him no matter what he decided to do. Moore had already played a father figure for Henry. He was by his side when times were good and times were bad. Their relationship was special and now it was going to be even more special now because the king knew it was Moore, his rock his mentor and father figure that brought him into this world.

"You are right Crum," Henry said with a smile, "as I said many times I wished I had Sir Thomas as my father and now I am given that chance I should take it."

"I am glad that I was of help Henry," Cromwell said, "but I do warn you to be wary. If you are going to accept Moore as your father you must do it in private. If this were to get out you and your kingdom can be in grave danger."

"I know," Henry said ruefully. Along with the gift of having Moore as his father came the chance of dangerous ramifications if the identity of his real father were to reach the ears of the courtiers. Again the thought of what would happen scared him. And suddenly as the thunder roared in the room Henry felt a hand touch his shoulder. He then realized that, though unexpected from the other man, it was Cromwell's friendly way of comforting him.

"Don't worry," Cromwell said lowly with a reassuring smile, "hopefully you won't have to worry about such an event happening. But for now you can trust me, I will on pain of death I will not tell a single soul your secret. But for now if god forbid your secret does get out, I will work night and day to find some technicality that can keep you the throne. "

And with a sigh of relief Henry replied:

"Thank you Crum I don't know how I would have gone through this without you."

* * *

That night after his meeting with the King, Cromwell made his way back to his chambers. Though this was a successful and rather happy meeting between the two of them it was a rather emotionally draining meeting, not emotionally draining in a bad way but emotionally draining in a good way. He was able to look within himself and know no matter what he done, no matter all his successes and failures there was one job he excelled at...being a father. Just seeing his King appreciate how he was able to have this special gift of having a father to love and support him, made Cromwell realize one thing, in the end it doesn't matter who your family is, no matter what mistakes they made, as long as they loved you it was all that mattered.

With that thought he entered his own chambers. As he shut the door behind him, he breathed a deep sigh of relief. He always felt safe in there for he was able to be himself and unwind from all the perils of the day. He often let out his emotions at that time, most of the time it was laughter at all the ridiculous things that happened at court. But when he walked into his chambers this time he felt something different, he was in a loving mood and he wanted to share it with one person.

"Gregory?" Cromwell called out quietly. He knew it was late and Gregory could be asleep by now. And it wasn't worth yelling out to wake him.

There was no response. Only the sound of the fire crackling in the fireplace, it confirmed Cromwell's suspicions. Gregory was indeed asleep. He walked quietly to his son's room making sure he didn't make a single sound.

"Son, are you awake?" He whispered

He peeked his head in the slightly open doorway. He couldn't help but smirk at the sight.

Gregory was tangled in the blankets. His fluffy dog Kingsley laid beside him curled in the crook of his master's arm. He was softly breathing in and out. Above all Cromwell knew by his son's relaxed and emotionless facial expression he was peaceful. He walked over quietly to his sleeping son and watched him sleep for a few moments before bending down and kissing his son on the forehead.

"I love you," he whispered, "I am grateful god gave me this gift of watching you grow up good night my son and have pleasant dreams."

And with that he turned around to walk out the door, failing to notice the massive grin that was forming on his son's face.

"I love you too father," Gregory replied causing his father to stop dead in his own tracks with a wide grin on his face. "And good night."

Cromwell turned around and gave one last smiling glance to his son before shutting the door behind him and retiring to his own bedchamber for the night.

_**A Note:**__** My Cromwell in this story is loosely based off my Perks Cromwell. I know Cromwell's past is not detailed other than the fact Walter Cromwell was the scum of the earth, and personally I really don't care if the man was kidnapped by flying monkeys, he was a asshole, end of story.**_

_**Also I thought I would use Gregory to show Cromwell has a human side cause some people believe he doesn't and besides he's so cute with Gregory.**_

_**Remember reviews=cookies! **_


	6. Acceptance

_**Once again thank you for your reviews. This chapter is not as long as the last one but is rather fluffy! Also please, please please encourage me I am wayyy behind in nanowrimo. **_

**Acceptance:**

_Just call my name_

_You'll be ok_

_Your scream is burning through my veins_

_Sooner or later_

_You're gonna hate it_

_Go ahead and throw your life away_

_Driving me under_

_Leaving me out there_

_Go ahead and throw your life away_

**-Sooner or Later-Breaking Benjamin**

_**Whitehall, September 22**__**nd**__** 1531**_

Sir Thomas did not sleep that night. He expected snuggling close to his bride to be after making love to each other once again would help. But it didn't instead it left him wide awake staring blankly at the ceiling. He didn't know whether or not he should have told Harry that he was really his father. Especially since he KNEW how fragile his Harry was. But even if it was a bad idea, he knew he was acting like a terrible father. He was lying in bed motionless while he should have been by his broken son's side comforting him. He didn't care that Harry told him to leave him be he still had an obligation as a parent to protect him.

That morning when he got to his office there was already a note waiting for him on his desk. The royal seal on the envelope told him it was a letter from Harry. With a deep breath he closed his eyes and carefully opened the seal. He sat down on the edge of his desk and began to slowly read the contents of the letter.

_Dear Sir Thomas,_

_I know yesterday was an emotional day for the both of us. Finding out you were my father is something I did not prepare myself for, it is something that no king even wants to prepare for such news like that….their father not being a king after all… You must understand it is shocking. Last night I did a lot of thinking about how I should handle this. But I don't want to discuss this in this letter, I rather discuss this with you in person. Meet me tonight at sundown in my secret spot you know where that is, I'll see you soon._

_Henry "Harry" Rex Tudor._

* * *

Henry thought sundown wouldn't come any sooner. When it was time he found a way to sneak out undetected. Wearing a black cloak he slipped through the first story window. He knew eventually the guards would find that he escaped their view and call a massive manhunt to look for him. This happened many times before and all those times it was the same outcome. Henry was safe and he just needed to escape the guards for a while.

With his royal hound Elle at his side for protection, he placed the hood of his black cloak over his head he made his way towards the secret entrance which was a sliding door in the stone wall of the surrounding perimeter of Whitehall to his favorite spot that only he and Moore knew about. A smile curled upon his lips at the memory. They often had outdoor lessons in that spot when the weather was warm. Often they laid out in the grass and guessed what shape the clouds were forming.

Now there would be another memory he shall always remember for the rest of his days. After slipping through the passageway he made his way down the steps and immediately felt relaxed. He loved this place at night. Some of the strangest creatures appeared. Some were big, some were small, some could fly and some could crawl. Some made sounds and some were quiet. He was always fascinated with these strange animals. Another common trait he shared with his father who owned many exotic animals. Even his dog was odd looking.

It was weird for Henry to describe Moore as his father and it will be even weirder to call him "Father". But as the sun had set in the sky so had their past relationship. Once the sun had completely set it would be a new chapter between them.

Henry walked over to against the tree and leaned his back against it before settling down. Elle ran beside him and took her place beside her master.

"Good Elle," Henry whispered as he stroked behind her ears. She yawned and leaned his head into his lap. Henry looked up to the sky. The sun wasn't completely set but it was starting to become dark enough that some stars began to peek in the sky. He took a deep sigh before closing his eyes. Maybe he could relax just for one moment.

Meanwhile on the other side of the wall Sir Thomas walked with his loyal hound Mugsly at his side. She was a strange dog. Her face was black as night but her body was of a plethora of brown and beige colors. Her face was flat which caused her often to snort like a pig. it was her strangeness that drawn her to him. And was glad to have such a dog because she remained loyal at his side for the one and a half years he owned her. Which was why she was companion on this short journey to meet with his long lost son.

He was nervous. He couldn't lie about that. He wondered what was going to happen. From the note Harry seemed calm and accepting of this new development in his life, but Sir Thomas had this gut feeling that he was still angry. That he had guards behind him ready to take him to the tower. Or planned to kill him and hide the body so this secret would never be revealed. Sir Thomas looked to the starry sky, he had to admit it was a beautiful night to die.

Soon he got to the secret entrance of the meeting place. He closed his eyes and gripped the rosary in his pocket. He hoped god would be able to forgive him for his sin.

"See me safe up," he whispered to himself before opening the entrance to their secret spot, "for my coming down let me shift for myself."

As he walked down the stone steps his heart began to race even faster than before. Maybe he was overdramatic when it came to the outcome. Maybe Harry was more disappointed that was not who he thought he was however before he could ponder more into this situation Mugsly barked and ran down the steps. Sir Thomas groaned she was a cute dog but quite the trouble maker.

He quickly followed her but stopped immediately in his tracks. Mugsly was at Harry's feet scratching at his boots. The king then lifted her in his arms and let her lick his face. Sir Thomas couldn't help but smile at the adorable sight.

"Ah Mugsly," Harry said looking into the dogs big eyes and pretending the other man was not in a near proximity of him, "you have found me on a such a joyous night."

Sir Thomas breathed a deep sigh of relief, Harry wasn't mad at him, however there was another question that needed to be answered. Would he accept him as his father or deny it?

"You want to know why Mugsly dear?" Harry asked the dog again as if she was another person, "because a wish of mine came true...you want to know what it was? I wished that the man who was only supposed to be my tutor, the man who believed in me when no one else did, was my father. But it turns out I didn't need to wish for he was my father all along."

Sir Thomas winced. Those words, shook him to the core. Did this mean he actually accepted him as a father, no matter who he was, no matter how dangerous it was to him as a king? He accepted him. His eyes began to water and his knees became weak. The next thing he knew he was on his knees with his face buried in his hands. He was weeping. He was not weeping because he was sad, he was weeping because he was really happy.

Soon he felt a presence kneel in front of him and place a hand on his shoulder.

"Father please don't cry," he heard Harry's voice say with a chuckle, "you are going to make me cry."

The humanist lifted his head to look into his son's eyes. He couldn't believe it...he called him "father". Harry had called him many things, his savior, his rock, his guardian angel...but father, seemed more special. He meant something more to him than just a person to guide him, he saw him as someone who was responsible for his existence and some who would love him no matter what he did.

"You just called me father," Sir Thomas said with a smile amongst his tears as he pulled back and took his son's forearms. He began to rub them lovingly.

Harry smiled and nodded his head. His blue eyes were sparkling in the moonlight.

"Yes," Henry said with his voice cracking he didn't want to cry as well but this was an emotionally happy moment for the both of them so tears were alright for tonight, "am I not allowed to call the man who aided in my creation and practically raise me to be the great king I am today my father."

"Well," Sir Thomas said with a chuckle, "not in public it's dangerous may I remind you. But in private you can call me father to your heart's content."

Henry laughed along with his father. He still tried to hold back the tears he was fighting off.

"Yes," Henry said with his voice cracking he didn't want to cry as well but this was an emotionally happy moment for the both of them so tears were alright for tonight, "am I not allowed to call the man who aided in my creation and practically raise me to be the great king I am today my father."

"When I was a child and my Henry Tudor would yell at me for no reason," Henry began with a deep sigh, "I would wish the same thing, that you were my father. I even yelled that at him once. Father, I am so glad that my wish has been granted."

The next thing Sir Thomas knew Harry fell into his arms. He wept freely into his father's chest. The lawyer wrapped his arms around his son and laid his chin on his forehead. He rocked his son back and forth patting his back. This happened often but it was more special between the two of them because they knew it wasn't two close friends anymore it was as father and son.

"And I am blessed that god gave me another child," The humanist whispered in his son's ear, "you, and dear Harry my sweet son I couldn't be more proud of you as I am now and I promise no matter what you do I will support you."

And that's all Henry wanted his father to tell him. He now finally, finally, had the comfort of knowing he had a father that did care about him that did indeed loved him dearly. He may have not been a king, nor had he been descended from royalty but it didn't matter to him anymore. He would have his greatest supporter at his side as a secret parent. Oh Henry couldn't ask for more.

And that night everything changed for the both of them. They were no longer teacher and student but father and son.

_**Reminder, as always REVIEWS=COOKIES**_


	7. Boleyn Plot and The Moore Children

_**Here it is the next long awaited chapter of Daddy Dearest. I warn thee it is very long and has many twists and turns. **_

**The Boleyn Plot and the Five Children of the Man of All Seasons:**

_**Whitehall September 22 1531**_

"What?" Sir Thomas Boleyn, Earl of Wiltshire and father of the Future Queen of England roared as he slammed his fist on the table causing his wife and three children to jump, "you mean to tell me that dull, moral son of a bitch is the king's true god damn father! It's impossible!"

Anne folded her arms in front of her. She wished it wasn't so but Henry showed her the note and it was convincing. Now that HE was Henry's father plans for the throne and power were further and further from her and her family's grasp. Henry may have been king but the rules of the family still apply. In the end the father had the final say in marriage. And so far the father did not like his future daughter in law.

"Well believe it father," Anne growled, "it gets worse, Henry now refuses to send him to the block if it may be because Moore's blood runs through his veins, so our original plan to get Moore out of the king's good graces is out of the question."

This is why Boleyn hated Sir Thomas Moore. He ruined all his family's plans for power. The Earl of Wiltshire often wondered what was so special about Moore that the King loved so much. So much that it was if Moore said it Henry followed. Now Moore had the power to put his foot down and find a bride proper to his dear little Harry.

Boleyn squeezed the bridge of his nose. This always happened the Boleyn fortunes looked up, Thomas Moore got in the way.

"What are we going to do now?" Boleyn moaned, "befriend the bastard? I rather die!"

"Maybe we should leave Moore alone," George Boleyn the youngest of the three living Boleyn children, "he knows Henry loves Anne so he won't do anything to get in the way of that and obviously they are keeping it quiet! Anne will still be queen!"

Boleyn chuckled before taking a sip of his wine. He often wished his two other boys were the ones who lived and George was the one who died he was nothing but a little disgrace to the family. Everything was a struggle with George. The most recent trouble was finding a new bride for his son after his wife Jane Parker dropped dead after childbirth.

"Of course we should leave Moore alone," Boleyn growled smacking his son upright side the head causing him to wince, "and then somehow the secret gets out and Henry is disposed. What if Anne gives the King a healthy son by then! The chances of the Boleyns being on the throne will be diminished we have no royal ancestors!"

Suddenly someone, a woman cleared her throat. All the Boleyns turned their heads to the Boleyn matriarch Elizabeth Howard. She was often just as sharp tongued and spoiled as her two daughters.

"That is not entirely true," she said.

Boleyn raised eyebrow.

"What do you mean it's not entirely true?" He replied.

Elizabeth stood up from the table pulling a key from her corset. Her family watched with curious eyes as she walked over to a portrait of Anne hanging on the wall. She then lifted the large portrait and pulled out a lockbox.

"Remember that story of the Princes in the Tower." Elizabeth said placing the box on the table.

"Who doesn't remember the story of The Princes in the Tower wife," Boleyn said with venom on his tongue, the three Boleyn children still looked at their mother with curiosity.

"Well those two boys aren't the only two who disappeared," Elizabeth said opening the box and handing her husband a piece of parchment.

Boleyn with stern eyes began to read the contents of the document. He laughed. He couldn't believe Elizabeth was making a to-do over just her mother's birth certificate! THAT, was not going to help their situation. But then he read further. Suddenly there was something rather puzzling in the document there was another name under it:

"John Edward."

Okay so apparently his mother in law was a bloody twin...big bloody deal this didn't help him either.

"This has nothing to do with helping us nor does it have to do with the god damn princes in the tower," Boleyn growled, "this merely tells me your mother was one of twins!"

"Read further you money hungry jackass!" Elizabeth growled placing her hands.

The three Boleyn children turned their heads back towards their father. They studied their father with anxious hoping he would reveal what their mother was cryptically trying to tell them. Suddenly the Boleyn patriarch's face became pale. His hands began shaking causing the paper to wobble along with it. The sounds of vibrations could be heard throughout the quiet room.

"Papa," Mary the wildest and adventurous of the Boleyn children said, "are you alright?"

Boleyn lifted a shaking finger at his wife.

"Y-y-you're," He only managed to stutter out.

"Come on dear you can say it," she said rolling her eyes at her husband's childish reaction to the secret she had long kept with her without telling a soul.

"You're the Granddaughter of Edward V!" He said, "one of the princes in the tower. HOW! They said Elizabeth La Belle, Prince Edward's wife...died before they even had a chance to have children!"

Elizabeth chuckled.

"Richard III had two boys vanish out of thin air certainly he was able to have a wife and two children disappear," She said sitting back down in her seat taking a sip of her wine, "but Richard wasn't as careful as he thought he was to hide a mother and her babies now was he!"

Both the infamous Boleyn daughters looked at each other for moment and gasped. George however couldn't help but chuckle to himself. And if their family couldn't get stranger than it was. Their mother was descended from overthrown royalty.

"We're Plantagenets!" Anne cried out standing up from her seat, "MUMMY ARE YOU TELLING US WE'RE TRAITORS! NOW HENRY IS NEVER GOING TO MARRY ME!"

"Oh stop being overdramatic child!" Elizabeth said to her oldest daughter making her sit down back in her seat, "that bastard on the throne is not going to know we are Plantagenet just yet. But we are going to use this to our advantage...you can probably catch my drift husband."

Boleyn's eyes turned from a rather dumbfounded expression to a rather devious expression. Suddenly his ambitions for his family rose further from that they could truly aim for. He was glad that this time his wife was on board with his evil schemes. Maybe because this time she too could greatly benefit from this situation.

"Oh I know exactly what you mean my dear wife," Boleyn said as he folded his hands in front of him sinisterly as his wife walked behind him, "and I am glad to have a bride who is just as clever as I."

"Quit the flattery husband," Elizabeth said beginning to rub his shoulders, "and let me finish what I wish going to say, you see this plan is not only going to get rid of Moore without Henry even making an inkblot on Moore's death warrant but get our current King who is nothing more than the Lord Chancellor's bastard of the throne and us into power."

Elizabeth then walked over to Anne and placed her hand on the back of her chair. It was amazing that she came up with this elaborate scheme in such a short amount of time.

"The plan is simple," Elizabeth continued, "Anne marries Henry and gives him the son he craves." She then lifted her finger in view of her family. "By then she will have Henry Tudor or should I say Moore, wrapped around her finger," she said while making a circuliar gesture around her finger to prove a point, "she will tell Henry to call Moore the _King Father_. Excited and seduced by her charms Henry will heed…well I don't need to explain more do I?"

"No you don't ," Boleyn replied replied with glee, "so it will be done, the Tudor Dynasty shall fall and the Boleyn Dynasty shall rise and reign over England from centuries to come….I guess Thomas Moore isn't so bad after all is he?"

_**Chelsea Manor September 25th 1531**_

Sir Thomas and Henry sat on the bed in the master bedroom.

Henry was leaning against one of the bedposts. Mugsly laid across his lap snoring away as the king pet her. Occasionally he paused to play with the wrinkles on her forehead. It was a stressful moment for him because his father was about to tell his children that they had a another brother...him. It worried him with a father, he was gaining three sisters and a brother. He couldn't help but wonder if they were going to accept him or not.

"Father do you think they are going to accept me?" Henry asked in a curious tone.

The humanist looked at his son. He knew now that he had to behave with Harry like he behaved with his other children. He was going to be honest.

"Well Harry," Sir Thomas said placing his hand on his son shoulder, "I will be honest, Meg will not be so easy she's stubborn something she shares with her brother."

Henry looked to the ground and slightly chuckled.

"I could imagine," he replied, "she's a strong woman, what about the others?"

"Well Cecily and Lizzie are hit or miss," Sir Thomas continued.

"Well I know Lizzie would be upset," Henry chuckled leaning more upright "I know she had quite the crush on me."

The humanist rolled his eyes at the comment. He had prayed none of his children would inherit his past wild side. But one did, Elizabeth, his wild boy-crazy daughter. He had often said that his second eldest was the cause of many of his gray hairs. He thought marrying her off to William Daunce would settle her down, but that failed since the dull and secretly promiscuous lad left her a widow months after marriage. And months after his death, Elizabeth didn't that sad about it.

"What about John?" Henry asked, "my godson?"

Sir Thomas made a deep sigh. He didn't even think about John's reaction. He was more open about his past with his youngest son. Of the four he had from his wife Joan, John was the only one who knew how truly evil his grandfather John was, who knew of the mistakes his father made. Both times he was understanding, but Thomas couldn't help but wonder, would he understand this time.

"John knows about my brief affair," He said, "he is very accepting since he knows I am merely human. I know he will be thrilled to have a brother but will be shocked considering his brother is indeed the king of England. But he will easily accept you which is why we are telling him he's on his way back from Cambridge as we speak."

Suddenly a voice rang out:

"FATHER I'M HOME!"

Mugsly sat up and began barking whilst wagging her tail excitedly. She soon leapt off the bed. The two men then heard the sounds of paws hitting the wood oak floor and footsteps coming up the stairwell.

"That must be John," Henry said raising an eyebrow.

Thomas stood up and smiled. He took a deep breath so he could be calm and composed enough to tell him he had a brother. He then turned his head and looked at his eldest son sitting on the bed before finally shaking his head.

"Father where you hiding?" John said again.

"In my bedroom John," Sir Thomas called out.

And soon Henry saw a lanky, dark haired and dark eyed young man appear through the doorway. Everyone could tell the moment they looked into young John Moore's eyes that he was the son of the Lord Chancellor of England, for he looked exactly like his father. The resemblance was so striking that many had mistaken John for his father. Henry even remembered Sir Thomas has told him he once went to a London Pub with friends pretending he was him and somehow managed to pull it off.

While the young John Moore shared his father's wit and humanist views he did not quite act like him. When he was around friends he let out his true colors, his bright sense of humor and his kindness. But when he was around strangers that changed. He was shy and quiet. He was sensitive and could be timid. It always saddened Henry because he knew the potential the young John Moore had within him but he feared to show it.

"Uncle Harry," John exclaimed with a smile before bowing deeply, "it is a pleasure to see you."

Henry smiled back at John. He had always been close with John his godson, and like Henry considered his mentor to be like his father, John considered Henry to be like his older brother he never had...and he was about to foundr out...that all along he was actually his brother.

"It's a pleasure to see you again too John and congratulations on your betrothal to the lady Kathryn Howard," Henry said.

Sir Thomas smiled he had no doubts that John would accept Harry as his brother but he was he more nervous about how John would react to such news, news that the king was his brother.

"Thank you Uncle Harry," John replied before turning his head towards his father, "so Father what is this news you made me travel all the way to Cambridge to tell me."

Sir Thomas turned his head towards Harry before turning his head back to look back at John.

Henry sat there with tentative eyes as he sat down on the bed. He was going to let his father do all the talking this time. He obviously wasn't his father so it wasn't his job to tell him their recently revealed secret.

"Well my son," He said placing both his hands on John's shoulders, "you remember when I told you about my past, and how I had that one night affair."

John smiled and bowed his head. He remembered when his father told him about it. It was the night before John left for Cambridge. His father came into his bedchamber. Like his son, he was dressed and ready for bed. John listened with tentative eyes and ears as his father told him about the pain he went through with his grandfather. How his father turned to drinking gallons of ale to numb his pain. Perspectives changed. He first thought his grandfather John, the man who would tell him stories as his grandson sat on his lap, was nothing more than a cruel, sadistic, foul and disgusting man. John realized his father wasn't as perfect as he often saw him as. And for that he admired him even more.

"Father I told you," John said with a smile, "I think no differently of you."

The humanist smiled down upon his youngest son. He often saw himself in him. Like John, when Sir Thomas was younger he was scared, terrified to show his talents to the world. But John had it differently, the lawyer made sure he was brought up in a loving nurturing environment. He knew one day, he would slowly but surely break his boy out of his shell. Just like, he broke Harry out of his shell.

"I know," Sir Thomas said rubbing his son's broad shoulder, "anyway I found out recently that this affair…resulted in a son."

John blinked. He had a brother! Forget the fact that this brother was illegitimate. He spent his life surrounded by sisters. Lizzie may have liked sports like he did, but like his sisters she loved girly things, like braiding hair and playing with dolls. Because of this his sisters often left them out in their "girly" games. It was those days he wished for a brother that he could do things boys liked to do like sports. Though John was older now, he was glad to finally have that luxury.

"I have a brother!" John exclaimed happily, he wanted to know more, HELL, he wanted to meet him, "have you met him?"

Sir Thomas closed his eyes and took a deep breath, now for the hardest part of this conversation.

"About that..." He began.

"Oh you have! Is he here?" John continued to say excitedly as he looked around the room, "can I meet him?"

Sir Thomas took a deep breath and smiled. He had to admit John's excitement to the news was rather adorable. Maybe he would keep this excitement when he found out Harry was his brother.

"He is here," He said with a smile, "look behind me."

John looked behind his father and chuckled.

"Father that's Uncle Harry he can't be your son," He said trying to control his laughter, "great joke father, clever one too."

Sir Thomas turned his head towards Harry. It was his way of telling him to join the conversation. The king smiled and walked to his father's side.

"Our father is not joking," Henry said as he placed his hand on the other man's shoulder, with honest eyes and a smile, "I am indeed your brother."

The moment the King spoke the color of John's face turned from red to sickly white. It was no longer a joke. It couldn't be if the King called his Lord Chancellor his father knowing the risks this can have on himself and his kingdom. The King, his godfather, the one he played sports with when his sisters wouldn't….was his BROTHER.

Before he could think further into this bizarre and twisted situation he fainted.

"Oh dear lord," Henry gasped as he crossed himself before falling to his knees beside his younger brother, "is he alright?"

Sir Thomas sighed deeply. It wasn't the first time John fainted at an earth shattering piece of news.

"He often reacts like this when he is in shock." He said quietly kneeling by his fallen son's side, "he'll be alright."

At least he hoped John would be alright when he woke up, or at least still accept the Man of All Seasons as his father…

John awoken soon after he was rendered unconscious, but told both his father and his "brother" that he wanted to be alone and both respected his wishes. Like his father when he wanted to think he had to be alone in order to think and take this all in.

John sat on the edge of his father's bed with his hands folded on his lap.

'Maybe it was a lie," he thought, 'Uncle Harry can't be my brother it is impossible.'

It was impossible, but it was also impossible for his father to lie, especially about something about this, his god father being his brother. How could he be? Unlike Meg, Lizzie and Cecily the king looked nothing like them. Maybe if they were all redhead he could see it.

And if Uncle Harry was his brother as his father said then why the hell did his father let him on the throne. John knew he would never let him or his siblings have the burden of being his consort.

And what the hell was he to tell his future wife Kitty. He by now was aquatinted with his bride to be enough that the was open with her, but how could he bring this up.

'By the way Kitty I forgot to tell you, your brother in law is the fucking King of England!'

Knowing how childish Kitty could be she would probably immediately assume in her vivid imagination that her father in law was secretly descended from royalty. That would mean she was a princess. He loved Kitty he couldn't lie but her fairy tale world was starting to irk him.

How could this happen? He would rather have his sisters be illegitimate than a bastard royal brother. He groaned and squeezed the bridge of his nose.

He had to accept it whether he liked it or not.

There was no doubt that things were going to drastically change. But he didn't know how, as his father taught him life was like a scale. It could either tip In your favor or tip against you. When things were on the edge of insanity he prayed the scale wouldn't tip against him but he felt that it wasn't the case this time.

This situation was like a runaway carriage. It was already out of control but there was nothing he could do to stop it. Pretty soon John and his siblings would be burying his headless father in a crypt. No he did not want to think about it! He had to focus on the sudden turn of events.

John had to come to peace with the fact, whether he liked it or not his brother was the King of England. It wasn't so bad. For one he remembered he now had the brother he wanted for starters. He had lots of questions about marriage he was too embarrassed to ask his father like when he consummated the marriage. And he had someone to play sports with when his father was busy. John smiled. Maybe having an older brother wouldn't be so bad after all.

"Son," John heard a soft voice say.

John lifted his head and saw his father standing in the doorway. He saw that his father looked scared and distressed. He could read by his father's eyes he feared his children's disappointment that he would gain one child yet lose four others.

"Father if you think I am abandoning you," John said looking sincerely into his father's eyes, "I am not."

Sir Thomas sighed and sat on the empty spot next to his son. They both sat in silence and looked at the wall ahead of them. The only sounds they heard was the sounds of the wind, the rain tapping violently on the glass, their breathing and the approaching thunderstorm coming their way. It seemed to be storming a lot in England since the news was revealed to the humanist.

"You seem angry," He replied.

John turned his head towards his father.

"I am not," John replied "I am scared, there's a difference...I am not mad that Uncle Harry is my brother, I am just scared of what's going to happen now, will our lives change or will they remain they way they are? "

Sir Thomas sighed and wrapped his arm around his son's shoulder. He sighed and looked into his eyes.

"I hope they do son," He whispered, "but we must prepare for if they do. If word gets out, your brother and I can be in grave danger."

John closed his eyes and turned his head away. His shoulders tensed and his eyes began to water behind his closed eyelids. He was always fearful always scared that something was going to happen. The fears sprang to losing his father. With his mother gone and Alice being the terror that she was, his father was all he had to guide him and raise him. He didn't know what he would do if god forbid he lost him.

"Father please," John said with a tear escaping behind his closed eye, "I don't even want to think about losing you. I don't even know how I could bear it!"

Sir Thomas sighed. He often wished his son wasn't so fearful. Especially about losing his father. He knew it was taking a long time for John to spread his wings and fly. But he knew some day, somehow, John would blossom into a strong and courageous young man.

"John," Sir Thomas said placing and comforting hand on his son's broad shoulder, "please understand even if I don't die from this, I am getting older and one day I will be called to god, it's inevitable, but by then your betrothed nd you shall have a long and happy marriage and have lots of children. However I won't be gone. I shall be looking down upon you and keep you safe."

John wiped the tear that was forming in his eye away with his sleeve. His father was right. He really shouldn't be scared. It was a fact of life. There was life and there was death. But right now, John's main focus was to start a family of his own and follow in his father's footsteps. And he had to support his father through this, because with the discovery that he was the king's father. There were rough roads ahead.

"So I am guessing I shouldn't worry," John said with a sigh looking at his father with a smile, "especially since we are keeping this thing a secret? Are we still allowed to consider Uncle Harry our brother?"

"Of course we are," Thomas said continuing to rub his son's shoulder, "just not when we are around others."

"Well at least one good thing came out of this…" John mused turning his mind around to think positively.

Sir Thomas said giving him a reassuring smile.

"And what is that my son?" He replied

"I finally have a brother."

Cecily and Elizabeth were the next to arrive. Cecily was kind enough to move in with Elizabeth after the death of her husband to help her raise Lizzie's only daughter Jane. They were much different from each other yet they seemed to be very close.

Cecily was the quiet one. She often liked to stay out of any problems and not verbalize what she is feeling. She would often do so in a journal she would carry around with her. Occasionally when she did speak she managed to say quite the humorous and quirky things. It was a shame she was so quiet because she possessed such beauty and kindness. Two traits that were strong within her late mother.

Elizabeth was a different story. She was wild, uncontrollable and one could often hear her from a mile away. A trait that was ever so often associated with her father the Man of All Seasons. She was adventurous for she liked to take risk and do things the boys would often like to do, like wrestle, play sports and do rather foolish things. Sir Thomas did not mind this attitude because he thought he didn't have to worry about her being interested in boys. He was clearly mistaken. She loved men as she loved rebelling. Sir Thomas didn't want to even mention how many letters he received from Alice stating that Elizabeth had been caught with other men. She began wearing low cut French Clothing which he tried to ban in his home and throwing herself upon men. Her biggest target, unknown to her in the past….was her brother the King of England.

She often prepared herself for the King's visits, wearing the lowest of the low in the cut of the dress. Her corsets would be tied extra tightly to exaggerate her assests to the King hoping he would be impressed. Her hair would be in either a tight pony tail or a loose bun to enhance her features of her neck and shoulders. She would throw herself at him and flirt. But alas her conquest would often fail.

There was a gut feeling between the man of all seasons and his two sons that all hell would break loose once Elizabeth found out.

Elizabeth stood by the window, again one of her more outrageous outfits. It was a black dress since she was still supposed to be in mourning for her recently deceased husband. But she loved wearing black but she could over accessorize with it. She wore a black cap with a feather in it. On her shoulders she wore a brown rabbit fur scarf. Once again her long dark hair was up in a bun.

"I wonder what father has to speak with us about," Elizabeth said still facing the window, "maybe he has found you a man for you to marry. Stupid Meg if it weren't for her choice in William fucking Roper we would be able to choose who we want to marry."

Cecily rolled her eyes and folded her legs. She then placed her hands on her lap. Elizabeth always complained about something, whether it be Meg, life or her father's devotion to his religion. But to her this was better than what Liz talked about usually. When Liz was not talking about something going wrong she was talking about sex! But Cecily was curious on what their father wanted to tell them.

Suddenly they heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Both women turned their heads to see…the King of England at the bottom of the stairs.

Cecily got up on impulse and curtsied and Elizabeth of course went in for the kill.

"Hello your majesty," Elizabeth said walking seductively over to the King, "it is a pleasure to see you again."

Henry's face suddenly became white when Elizabeth made his way towards him. When Elizabeth made flirtatious glances to him before he was rather flattered, but now that she was his sister, it was rather awkward. He turned his head towards the stairs.

"Fa-" Henry began, he immediately cut himself off. He didn't want to reveal that the fact he was their brother just yet. But it felt so awkward to call him Sir Thomas now that he knew he was his father. So he just stood there as Elizabeth continued to advance to him.

Elizabeth walked over and placed her hand flat on his chest. Henry stood paralyzed as he closed his eyes lightly. His upper lip twitched violently. Oh he usually loved such advances. He could push her off and say this _is wrong you are my sister_ but he felt if he said that he would already stat tension between Sir Thomas and his two daughters.

"So have you thought about a second option in case the engagement with Anne Boleyn fails," Elizabeth asked getting closer to him her hand now touching his cheek her lips became closer to his, "because I can help you decide a back up plan."

She was about to go in for the kill. But then a long hearty familiar laugh began to fill the room. Elizabeth stepped back and looked up to see her brother John laughing so hard his body was rolling on the floor. She growled.

"WHAT'S SO DAMN FUNNY," She growled, "THANKS A LOT JOHN! I WAS SO CLOSE TO GETTING TO THE KING WITHOUT FATHER STOPPING-"

"ELIZABETH, JOHN," A strong voice growl.

Soon everyone in the room's eyes were on their patriarch. Elizabeth made a disappointed sigh. John stood up from the floor and dusted himself off. Henry's face became beat red. The Moore patriarch stood at the top of the stairs with his arms folded in front of him. His eyebrows were furrowed.

"On the couch all of you," Thomas scolded.

All obeyed. Elizabeth and Cecily sat side by side on the sofa. John and Henry sat on the two comfy chairs beside them. The Moore daughters were confused why the King followed an order from the father. Wasn't it supposed to be opposite? Wasn't the King supposed to bark out orders and their father was to follow like a puppet on a string?

Maybe this had to do with what father had to tell them? For the women in this age both Cecily and Elizabeth were smarter than most of their fellow men. They were often able to come to conclusions with so little clues. Their father didn't have to speak. They already knew….the youngest of the Moore daughters wouldn't mind the news but Elizabeth's face turned white. She hoped it wasn't so….

They remembered told them he had a brief liaison with a woman as a teenager, but did he actually go further?

Before their father could even utter a word, Cecily, the usually quiet one finally spoke:

"Father, I know you told Elizabeth and I is the King your son."

Henry raised an eyebrow. He knew his sisters were clever, but they were obviously more clever than he thought. But again he remained quiet and let his father do the talking.

"Yes," Sir Thomas said looking down to the ground. He closed his eyes for a moment and waited for their reaction. He wondered if they would act so well and accept their brother just as quickly as John. Or would their reaction be something worse than he expected?

Suddenly a wail from Elizabeth caught his attention? Thomas opened his eyes widely and saw his daughter burying her face in her hands and sobbing. His heart sank Elizabeth was angry with him. He quickly walked over to his second eldest daughter and knelt in front of her.

"Elizabeth I am sorry," He said looking at her with apologetic eyes, "I know my past actions upset you and I will understand if you are upset with me."

His daughter lifted her head and sniffed wiping a tear from her eye. She looked down at him with dark and watery eyes.

"I am not mad at you father," She said with a cracking voice, "I am just upset that my dreams of being Queen of England are gone GOD I CANT BELIEVE I HAD A CRUSH ON MY BROTHER!"

A snort was uttered from John. Cecily placed her hand over her mouth , trying to hold her giggles. Sir Thomas tried not to smile himself hoping to not offend his daughter but it was by time she learned that there was no such thing as a fairytale life. The chance that a commoner would become queen was once every 100 years. He opened his mouth speak but something else happened.

Harry had slowly stood up from his seat and walked over to Elizabeth. He then wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"You may not be my Queen Elizabeth," He said with a soft calm and quiet voice, "but you are something else, something much better. This job doesn't have to require you to worry about people loving you or bearing me a son. It just requires you to love me and support me no matter what I do. You are my sister and I promise to protect you and find a fine husband that will treat you with respect, if not…he will be a head shorter."

Elizabeth chuckled and laid her head on her brother's shoulder.

"Well I guess having a king for a brother isn't so bad after all!" She said.

Sir Thomas stood back and saw the way his four children interacted. This was what he wanted all his children to be together and get along. And now he hoped that the last and hardest and most stubborn child would take a shining to her new brother Meg….

Sir Thomas decided it would be best to tell his eldest daughter Meg alone without Harry by his side. He knew with her brother there, the situation would be much more tense. Especially of all the siblings, Meg didn't know about the wild side. While John knew the whole story, Cecily and Elizabeth just were aware he was a wild child. He couldn't tell her. His eldest daughter had built him up to be this moral god-like creature, he had a gut feeling that this would destroy her.

She didn't come till nightfall. Surprisingly the rain cleared up that night so father and daughter took a walk outside the Chelsea exterior. They had always enjoyed walks there. She gripped lightly onto her father's arm as they walked through the woods next to the river. They had only the moon and the stars to guide them. Meg already noticed there was something wrong. Her father was quieter than usual tonight, he usually had a mouthful to say. She had sensed immediately there was something wrong.

"Father you are quiet," Meg said looking up into his eyes, ''What's wrong?"

Sir Thomas stopped in his tracks. He turned his head to the side for a moment and took a deep breath. He had to tell her now, whether he liked it or not he had to tell her. He tensed his shoulders tensed and he walked in front of her placing her hands on her shoulders.

"Meg," He said, "I have something to confess to you."

Meg remained still and silent. Curiosity was beginning to get the better of her. Something was wrong. She could feel it through her veins. Was he sick and dying? Did he commit an act of treason or against god? Did something happen to her siblings? She bit her lip and looked into her father's eyes and waited for his confession.

"Your grandmother Agnes died a horrible death," Sir Thomas said looking into her eyes with his own eyes watering, "she fell down a flight of stairs after she drank. Your grandfather blamed me for it. He never made me forget it. He made me remember by beating me over and over again."

Meg blinked. She knew there was something rather off about her Grandfather John. He often seemed cold and distant from her family. And when he left Papa would afterwards lock himself in his chambers and cry himself to sleep. Now she began to understand why.

"Oh father," She said hugging him nuzzling her head in his chest hearing his heartbeat. She often did that when she saw him upset. It made him feel better. But for some reason he seemed sad. His heartbeat was faster than normal. She even felt him shaking.

Thomas decided to keep her close for a while. He ran a hand through her hair. He wanted to savior her closeness with him. He knew soon once he told her that he wasn't who she thought he was and that Harry was his illegitimate son she would not look at him the same way again. He sighed and lifted her chin.

"There is more," He said quietly looking honestly in her eyes, "the pain was so unbearable, nothing could numb it. So I turned to drinking to numb it. I would drink so much I would black out and do risky and unreasonable. One night it got so bad I woke up, naked in another person's bed with no memory of what happened. I thought it was nothing but recently I found out that drunken night resulted in a son. He is someone we know well he is the king of England…"

Meg listened to all those words. She couldn't believe it. Her father used to be….a drunk. He used to get drunk enough to the point where he passed out? And it got worse from there. He had premarital sex with a woman. As she listened further he found out that she was not just any woman. She was the FORMER queen of England. He got her pregnant and gave her a son. And this son became the King of England.

She lifted her head and gave her father a sheepish look. She didn't see the man she admired and snuggled in with at night and listened to tales he weaved from various mythical tales from other lands. This wasn't the man who she looked up to and inspired to be. This wasn't the man she proud of that wouldn't become like those other men in society would. He was a fake and a lie. This wasn't her father, he was an imposter.

"No," She said with tears in her eyes as she pushed him backwards violently before beginning to walk away.

Sir Thomas felt his heart sink. He prayed to god that he would at least make Meg understand because he knew making her come to terms with it was impossible. But again he was deceived. NO! He was not going to lose her too. He slowly followed her and grabbed her arm lightly, gently he turned her around to face him.

"Meg please," He said with his eyes watering, "you are my child and it will kill me if you hate me! But please understand, I am a human and I am allowed to make mistakes-"

SMACK!

His own daughter smacked him hard across the face. He winced and held his throbbing cheek.

"You are not my father." She said with tears in her eyes, "how can you be? All you did was teach us not to be like the women in court and fall to the charms for the men. Especially the King! Yet you tell me this? That you had sex with a Queen?"

"I was young and foolish," He replied, "and I was in pain, I am not like my father I couldn't even bear to lay a hand on any of my precious children. I am glad you and your siblings don't know what it is like to wake up in the morning and be in so much agony that you cannot move. To fear every move you make. I know it was a mistake but I am glad! I am glad that I gave the king something he wanted all his life….a father!"

Meg gave him one last furious look.

"Well I am glad you gained another son," she said, "it will make up for the fact you lost a daughter."

She started walking away quickly. He tried calling out her name. But it didn't work she was out of his view. Tears were pouring down his cheeks. Maybe she was overreacting, maybe she would walk back. So he stood there and waited and waited and waited, but to no avail. Soon there was another clash of thunder. And with a deep breath he began to make his way back to his home before he was drenched in the rain.

_**Authors Note: **__**We do not know what happened to the Princes in The Tower, they could have been murdered or they could have been smuggled on the ship to the new world. But for the sake of dramatic license there will be a few changes in the historical story:**_

_**1) The Incident that happened with the Princes occurred in the 1460s**_

_**2) Richard III will have a 2 decade reign but have no children. They will have a son but he will die at a young age and there will be strain of miscarriages following their dead son.**_

_**3)Edward V will be 17 when he disappears**_

_**Finally Elizabeth La Belle was someone I made up.**_

_**Anyway you know the drill Review and you get a cookie!**_


	8. Everything Is Alright

_**Once again thank you all for your reviews favs and alerts, the encouragement makes me happy.**_

_**Warnings:**__** Violence and Psycho!Meg**_

**Everything Is Alright:**

_Tell me that you're alright,_

_Yeah everything is alright._

_Oh please tell me that you're alright,_

_Yeah everything is alright._

_Give me a reason (I don't believe a word)_

_To end this discussion (of anything I've heard)_

_To break with tradition (they tell me that it's not so hard)_

_To fold and divide (it's not so hard)_

_So let's not get carried (away with everything)_

_Away with the process (from here to in-between)_

_of elimination (the long goodbye)_

_I don't want to waste your time._

-Motion City Soundtrack

While their father was outside with Meg to tell her the news of her new brother, the Moore siblings decided to spend long lost time with their brother. Well it wasn't exactly lost. The King was part of their family for as long as they could remember. He was there for all their births and all their birthdays and all their special events. He engaged in games and activities with them. He grew up with them practically.

And now that they were adults the fact they now knew that they had the king as a brother all along made it more special to be around him for the Moore siblings.

They all sat around in the circle, talking about various events that were currently going on in their lives.

"So John," Henry said staring at his younger brother with intrigue, "tell me about this Kathryn Howard girl you are marrying, I hear they consider her a beacon of innocence, beauty and youth, a rose without a single thorn."

The two Moore sisters giggled. They were somewhat with acquainted with their future sister in law. She was a beacon of beauty and youth yes, but innocence was a different story. Elizabeth and Kitty spent their first family meeting making trouble and pointing out the cute men at the party. But John and Kitty seemed to get along quite well. And they already loved each other so Kitty's trouble making flaws were just a minor thing.

"Oh my she is beautiful," John mused smiling as he pictured his bride to be, "she has long golden curls, vivid blue eyes and pale skin. She can act childish but she has the ability to make you laugh and bring light into dark room when she smiles.

Henry smiled and took a sip of his wine. He then lightly elbowed his brother. He never had a brother to mess around with and talk about girls with. Yes he had Arthur and Edmund, but Arthur was always sick and Edmund was a goody, goody. He was always too afraid to get in trouble and acted too much like a fucking adult. But for all these years he gained the lost brotherly time with his godson and little brother.

"Will I get to meet her soon?" Henry asked in curiosity.

"Yes in fact she is coming tomorrow," John replied, "she is dying to meet you! You'll love her."

Elizabeth then chuckled and leaned forward. She tried not to flirt with him like she usually did now that she knew that he was her brother. So instead she controlled her impulses pretending that he was John's twin. Besides the king knew all the handsome eligible men in England for her to marry. Certainly he will be much better than her dull as fuck husband William Daunce.

"So you said you will find me a new husband," Elizabeth said eyes squinting in intrigue, "I hear that the future Queen's brother was recently widowed. Does he have any possible suitors or is his stingy father trying to set him up with a Princess?"

Henry couldn't help but laugh. It was not right for him to make fun of Anne's father but it was true. Thomas Boleyn was a bit of a stingy bastard. But if he loved Anne he would have to tolerate her father and her rather demanding and spoiled behavior.

"SO YOU DO HAVE A CRUSH ON GEORGE!" John said with a long and hearty chuckle. He was the closest with Elizabeth so he knew her well. Every time he brought his best college buddy home she would suddenly stop what she was doing and not leave the two boys alone. He didn't mind though, it will actually be fun to have his best friend for a brother and law. Besides it seemed that George's mood changed direction when Elizabeth was in his presence, she'd be good for him.

"I DON'T!" Elizabeth cried though at this point it was to no avail to hide the obvious.

"It's alright sister we all have our infactuations," Henry said with a chuckle, "I'll talk to Anne, she'll be able to convince her father to arrange a match."

"Seriously? You think can arrange a successful marriage between George and I even though both our fathers are stubborn picky fools," Elizabeth said.

Henry laughed even harder because it was true. Neither Boleyn or his father could ever agree on anything because their ideals were much different from each other. Every conversation either private or public wound up in an argument. Henry made it a point to keep the two men away from each other to prevent tension and disaster. Though he didn't know how he would be able to once he and Anne got married.

At the corner of his eye he saw John roll his dark eyes.

"Of course he can Elizabeth," John said folding his arms in front of him, "he's the bloody king."

"Yeah but when Father said sit down good old Harry sat down," Elizabeth said, "proves our brother is an obedient son, it probably means when he writes a law and father says no. The law is null and void."

Henry was impressed by how intelligent and outspoken Elizabeth when the four Moore children were together they were outshined by their sister Meg. She was an attention seeker and always wanted to be favored. And he was beginning to understand why Meg was hated by his other siblings. Especially since with his other siblings they had a "Meg" in the family, his sister Margaret Tudor. His sister Mary Rose and he celebrated her departure to Scotland they despised her that much.

"Well father and I have an agreement to keep us safe, obviously here when we are not around people who aren't privy to this information," Henry began causing the three Moore siblings to raise their eyebrows. They were used to the King/ their brother calling their father Sir Thomas. "I have to behave by his rules since it is the true natural order of things, a son must obey his father no matter what his status may be, in public he obviously has to treat me as King, except he, along with you, along with the rest of my family have a special privilege immunity from execution."

"Wicked," John said, intrigued at the thought he and his family were basically now.

"But overall," Henry continued turning his head to Elizabeth, "I will work my powers as King and your Brother to arrange the marriage you wish."

"I trust you brother," Elizabeth said with a trusting smile.

Henry then turned his head to Cecily. She was the shyest of the bunch, quiet and barely contributed to the conversation. As her brother he felt it was his duty to break her out of her shell. He gave his youngest sister a kind smile and said:

"So Cecily I haven't heard you speak, tell me have you found anyone that suits your fancy?"

Cecily sighed quietly. She was kind of nervous to speak. She was afraid if she did she would embarrass herself. She had to remember though she was around family, and had a new caring brother who would accept her no matter what. She had met a guy in town when she went to visit her brother at Cambridge. He was John's age and happened to be one of John's Cambridge buddies, shy and handsome. They talked for a while and she felt a sense of comfort with him. She knew though it wasn't meant to be, his father was a well known protestant Crusader. After the incident with William Roper she didn't think father would allow such a match.

"There is one boy I have met," She said in a mousy voice, "he was very kind to me, but father wouldn't want me marrying someone like him."

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows in intrigue.

"Is he a heretic?" She replied in a curious tone, "I didn't think my shy little sister would go for protestant bad boys! What's his name?"

Cecily rolled her eyes. She wasn't like her father, she looked beyond a person's belief to find the beauty within and without them. She may have been a Catholic herself and she may have not agreed with the Protestant doctrines but she respected everyone's opinions.

"Don't call Gregory a heretic," she growled at her sister, "it will make him demonic and he is far from that! He's a sweet boy!"

Gregory, Gregory, Henry had heard that name many times before. He suddenly remembered that Thomas Cromwell's only living son, who Cromwell talked about ever so frequently, was named Gregory. Henry knew young Gregory's father was a well known Protestant supporter. Was that who she was talking about? Maybe wasn't him, maybe it was just a coincidence.

"Gregory, as in Gregory Cromwell?" Henry asked in curiosity, "if so I know his father, very well actually, he has an honorable father."

"Yes it's Gregory Cromwell," Cecily said running her hand through her dirty blonde hair nervously.

"I got to stop bringing my friends home from school," John said before taking a sip of his wine.

"Good luck trying to arrange a marriage between my father and the quote unquote heretic Cromwell," Elizabeth said again leaning to her side, "it will be doomed before Cecily even walks down the aisle."

Henry raised an eyebrow. What Elizabeth was saying was rather puzzling. He knew his father was not happy with the Protestant reformation in Europe but he didn't know it would matter in what faith the person had to be in order for him or her to be elligable as a Moore suitor.

"But I thought father and Mr. Cromwell were friends!" Henry said in a rather amazed tone, "and besides isn't Meg's husband William a Protestant."

"Yeah," Elizabeth said now sitting upright and wrapping her arm around Henry's broad shoulders, "but papa didn't tell you all the secrets of our little family, Meg isn't as goody-goody as you thought she was. The reason why father finally agreed to such a marriage is because Meg got pregnant out of wedlock."

Henry gasped:

"You're joking."

"Nope," The King's three siblings said at the same time.

"Well I guess," Henry said with a smirk, "I guess you have to look deeper to see what a person really is. And in this case the prissy favorite happens to be a sinning bad girl."

The four children of Thomas Moore began to laugh. For the first time, Henry knew what it was like to have a family. A family who didn't see him as king, but a family who saw him as a equal. Siblings, he didn't have to compete with. When most King's would think having a non royal father would get worse and worse by the minute, Henry thought that the addition of the Moore family to his own got better and better by the moment. However their happiness was ceased when the front door slammed wide open.

They knew the minute the door opened there was something wrong. Their father walked into the room slowly. His eyes were black with pain. His face was sickly pale. He looked at his children for a moment as their smiles slowly faded. But he didn't speak, he just quickly disappeared to the comfort of his chambers.

"What the fuck just happened?" Henry asked,

John, Cecily and Lizzie looked at each other sheepishly. But before anyone could answer the door opened wide once again. And a storm, far worse than the one forming outside, blew in. Henry stood up and saw his sister Meg and his brother in law William Roper standing in the living room causing quite the commotion. William had a sheepish look on his face, Meg's face was red with rage and sadness as tears poured down her eyes.

"We are getting my things William," Meg scowled as the door slammed once again, "I want nothing to do with this family! They are all nothing but lying heathens! No wonder my sister and that thing I call a brother are whores! THEY ARE JUST LIKE HIM!"

Henry winced at the words Meg had said about his father and his siblings. He was appalled that his father favored this little brat over his other children. She was nothing but spoiled and disrespectful. Their father have given her everything and would do anything for her and this is how he is repaid. Henry scrunched his face in disgust. He hoped his father permitted him to have this wench executed, she wasn't his sister she was a heartless witch.

"You ungrateful little wench!" Henry growled as his three siblings came to his side, finally someone was standing up to Meg when they couldn't, "how dare you treat our father that way!"

Meg spun around to face her "brother", her dark eyes began to burn a hole into him. But Henry faced many enemies and this was no different, he didn't fear her because she was his blood.

"Our father?" Meg spat, "he is not your father, and as long as you deny it he is not mine either."

Henry chuckled and turned his head away.

"I see what it is," He said casually before turning his head to face her, "you don't want another sibling, in fact you don't want any siblings at all. You just want your father all to yourself." As he said that he walked closer to her. "You want all the attention, all the world to revolve around you…well guess what sister, it doesn't."

Meg began to fume those words? How dare he suddenly decide to join their fucking family and humiliate HER, HER! And what was worse all of her siblings sided with that god damn BASTARD! With tears in her eyes from anger she raised her hand and smacked her "brother" hard across the face. She knew she could be executed for assaulting the king but king or not she had to show the consequences of even daring to humiliate her like that.

"YOU ARE NOT MY BROTHER!" Meg shrieked, "YOU WILL NEVER WILL BE! FATHER DOESN'T CARE ABOUT YOU! THE WALKING CONTRIDICTION PROBABLY THINKS YOU ARE A TROUBLE MAKING POMPUS BRAT LIKE THE REST OF THE WORLD!"

Henry hissed and grabbed his cheek. The anger flared within his body. How dare she hit him? How dare she treat him and the rest of his new family like garbage? His hand curled into a fist. He wanted to react violently against his sister for the way she was behaving. But Henry knew that she wanted him to hit her. He wanted her father to see that his bastard son was nothing but a "monster". But he wasn't the monster here, she was. She liked to bring others down with her own for her own sick pleasure. Her kindness and politeness was only a mask. She needed tears to make herself feel stronger.

He wondered if his father was listening and hearing all the hurtful words comming out his supposed favorite daughter's mouth. He waited for him to come down and defend him for the way Meg was behaving but he was probably hurt as he was. He wondered if he knew all along that his daughter or just denied her lies.

But now that Henry joined the family e was not going to stand for this.

"You think your words will strike me down," He said looking with strong and stern eyes, "but you are wrong. They don't, I remember the words our father taught me during my first lesson with him, he said this to me after my false father would bring me down and bully me, 'don't ever let anyone's abusive words bring you down'. And right now this is no expectation. Whether you like or not I am your brother! Our father made a foolish mistake but it molded him into the kind man he is today, and that is the nature of man to MAKE MISTAKES! Now if you want to be abusive to my father and I because it destroys your little fantasy world and belittle your siblings then you do not deserve to be part of this family."

That was the breaking point! Something within Meg ignited within in her! First her father tells her that he was a fake and a lie and now she was being humiliated by his BASTARD! What was worse was her siblings were cheering the brat on. Their laughs taunted her! The King was already doing what he did best manipulating everyone against the person who humiliated her. Finally she as if she was possessed by the devil she lunged forward and tackled the King to the ground smacking, scratching and clawing at him.

"YOU ARE NOT MY BROTHER!" She growled again, "YOU NEVER WILL BE MY BROTHER! GET OUT OF OUR LIVES!"

Suddenly a pair of strong arms pulled her off her 'brother' and a familiar voice roared:

"ENOUGH!"

Finally, the father came to intervene. Cecily and Elizabeth ran to Henry aid. He sat up and began gasping for air, wondering what the hell just happened here and regretting the fact he gave the guards the night off.

Sir Thomas in the meanwhile was doing everything he could to keep his cool. He never been so angry at any of his children for such behavior in his life! It was the first time he wanted to act so violently against any of his children. But he remembered his vow, he would not be like his father and he would not abuse any of his children like his own father. So he kept his principles and took Meg's face in his hands and looked sternly in her eyes.

"I understand you are angry with me," He growled, "and I understand this piece of news is uppsetting to you, but how dare you behave so violently against any of your siblings and don't you even fucking DARE blame your brother on this and yes I am willingly and consciously calling Harry my son and not looking back and regretting it, for my actions. I committed a grave sin but it doesn't matter to me anymore god blessed me with a fifth beautiful child. Now you are either going to be an adult and accept the inevitable or you are going to act like a foolish child."

Sir Thomas let go of his daughter's face and walked towards the door. He then opened it wide letting the cool stormy wind blow in.

"If you so chose to be a child and abandon your family just because I have a son out of wedlock," He said gesturing out the door, "then leave! But I pray that god makes you see the light because I taught you better than this!"

Meg looked at her "father" for a moment then to her brother sitting up on the floor looking up with sheepish eyes. She didn't say a word. She just snarled before roughly grabbing her basicly paralyzed husband and leading him out the door. Sir Thomas did not do anything to stop her, right now he was disappointed in his daughter. He made one last angered growl before slamming the door shut violently. He took a deep breath before walking away ignoring his four bewildered children on the floor.

"Father," John had the courage to speak out, "please don't let her get to you! She is unreasonably stubborn.

"Not now I wish to be alone!" Sir Thomas growled.

He was gone before any child could object room echoed with the sound of yet another door slamming.

* * *

Sir Thomas spent the next few hours sitting in his study. He always went there when he was stressed. He felt safe there. He could think without being bothered. Let out the emotions he held in without being judged. He sat in his favorite chair. The chair he had sat in often as a teenager after his father beat him mercilessly. He was glad to bring it in to his once united home.

He leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes lightly. He couldn't believe that a secret he wished to have buried with would come to this. A home probably just as broken as his childhood home. His fingers fumbled with the rosary laced within his fingers.

"Why," He simply whispered as he opened his eyes to stare into the raging fire.

He did not regret finding the letter nor did he regret his decision. Harry needed a father now. Even if he was just a commoner. And he felt it was his destiny to fill the void Harry had as a child. But did it have to cause so much pain. Why couldn't Meg just accept that? That her father was the type of man who made it his mission of being a good father!

He was actually happy Harry was his son. For he loved him as a son from the moment he met him. He was also happy that his three children that were overshadowed by Meg's brilliance were accepting of his new brother as well. But he didn't expect Meg, who he taught to be accepting, that everyone was not pure and clean of sin, that it was the nature of men to make mistakes, to act so cruely and so violently to the news of a new brother. He sighed, maybe she was shocked, maybe she will eventually come around, maybe not. Even if she didn't he had four other children that loved him right.

But why was he so shaken up and broken about the fact his ungrateful daughter was acting this way! He had a possible idea.

Unlike his own children, Sir Thomas was not encouraged to fail growing up. Everytime he failed at a task he was beaten severely and called worthless. It traumatized him. In his early adulthood it was obvious to the public eye. He would drop a book and tremble. He would accidently made an ink blot on the parchment he was writing and try to apologize a thousand times in fear of a beating. But as he learned the humanist view of life his fear to make mistakes diminished. He knew he should act to satisfy himself and not satisfy the man who turned his childhood into nothing but a nightmare.

But when he became a father he remembered one thing he said to him.

_'You may seem to the perfect father now, but the truth is you will one day disappoint them just like you disappointed me.'_

He screamed at the top of his lungs that his father was wrong. That he would be a thousand times greater father than he ever was. He was then slapped in front of Alice his bride to be for defying the old man. He was glad his children were in their rooms so they would never see the true monster he really was.

He buried his face in his hands the man he feared was once again right. But his heart didn't want to believe it. He couldn't. Though the facts in front of him were true, he couldn't believe it.

"Father," A voice said.

Sir Thomas lifted his head from his hands. He then cocked neck to look behind him and saw Harry standing at the door. He didn't know how he felt seeing his son standing by the door with an indifferent look flashing upon his face. He didn't know whether to be happy to see his long lost son for he needed to know he was loved. But at the same he wanted to wallow in his misery alone. He sighed and turned back to look at the raging fire. Harry was stubborn. Even if he told him to go away he wouldn't budge. He might as well not fight it.

"Come in son," he said quietly.

He heard the door shut lightly, then the sounds of footsteps walking towards him. The next thing he knew Harry took his place next him on the armrest of the chair. Hands were folded politely on the king's lap and his head was bowed in resignation. It was silent between them for a few moments.

"I am sorry," Harry whispered quietly finally breaking the silence.

Sir Thomas turned his head towards his son and raised an eyebrow.

"Why are apologizing Harry you have done nothing wrong," he replied placing a hand on his shoulder.

Harry made a deep sigh and turned his head away. The humanist felt his son's shoulders tense beneath his large hand.

"I feel I did," Harry replied, "I feel that if you didn't find out about me being your son...I wouldn't have caused you so much pain, Meg acting the way she did and all..."

Sir Thomas sighed. Meg again. He had to admit as much as he favored her, he was also growing rather annoyed about how much she tortured her siblings only to be the best. He was also annoyed about how she looked at things in a black or white matter rather than gray. It was because he looked so highly to her, he often failed to see these flaws within her.

He sighed and lightly gripped his son's chin and turned his head so he could look sincerely into his blue eyes.

"Harry," The humanist whispered rubbing his son's cheek with his thumb, "I could not be any happier that you are my son. Meg, is just acting irrational. Maybe she will come around..someday. But for now...all that matters is that I have another addition to my family...you."

Henry smiled as he laid his head on his father's shoulder. With this very close affection he felt safe and warm. Especially since his father was so open to his close and sincere gestures even if his boy was a grown man. He closed his eyes and felt his father gently run his hand through his son's hair. He then sighed and lifted his head to look in his father's eyes.

"Father," he said, "you know how I told you that I told that Anne knows you are my father?"

Sir Thomas sighed. He wished that the Boleyn temptress didn't know about this since he knew she had the mouth of a parrot and repeat every word of juicy gossip she heard, just as he wished that the jezebel wasn't becoming his daughter in law. But he couldn't control it. She had every right to be Harry's bride just as she had every right as his bride to be to know all his secrets. But he had to continue for he knew where this conversation was going.

"Yes Harry," he responded, "if you told the Duke of Suffolk that I am your father, I don't mind, he is your good friend and a honorable man so I trust him."

"No not yet," Harry replied, "but I plan to tell him..I told someone else. Please don't be mad at me...but I told Secretary Cromwell."

And the only reaction was an angered roar that could be heard throughout the Moore home.

_**Remember guys reviews=cookies! Also this is a homestretch from NaNoWriMo and I am behind, I could use some encouragement to finish and catch up. If it is successful I hope to have this novel be my first published work so the encouragement will mean a lot to me!**_

_**XOXOX**_

_**Nor**_

_**PS**__**I have made for reference and your viewing pleasure a side by side comparison of Moore and Henry Here is the link:**_

_**Flickr .com / photos / 39639545N08/ 5205520645 /in / photostream/**_

_**(Take away the spaces)**_


	9. A Lesson In Tolerance

_**Sorry guys for the long delay! I spent a month away from this story because of recovery NaNoWriMo which I won BTW and planning my epic Stargate Atlantis/Tudors Crossover….John Sheppard/Anne Boleyn=Love. Focusing on this story constantly needed a break so here it is.**_

_**Warnings:**__** Violence.**_

**A Lesson in Tolerance: **

_**September 25th 1531 Whitehall Palace**_

Three days and five panic attacks later Sir Thomas finally returned to Whitehall. He spent those three days panicking that the heretic Cromwell had told all of his heretic buddies that their worst threat to their religion was indeed the king's father and needed to be eliminated IMMEDIATELY. Harry assured him that the no good scheming secretary was on their side but Moore had met many like Cromwell before. Though he thought the other man was a good father, with bravery and some ideals he agreed with, he was mixed in too deeply with the wrong faith and was nothing but a snake as low as the snake who was responsible for the fall of man.

And because Moore spoke openly against his faith, Cromwell would stop it nothing to cause his fall. And since the secretary was a clever man and knew Harry wasn't tyrannical enough to kill his own father, he probably had a plan to get rid of him secretly.

Because he had these irrational thoughts, Sir Thomas was on his toes. Especially when he came to court. He knew a crowded place was the best place to execute the perfect assassination for the assassin could disappear into the crowd and no one would know. As he walked the hallways, especially in the busy ones he was extra carefyk. Soon he found himself alone in the quiet halls that led to his office.

It was quiet, eerily quiet. His fingers reached into his pocket and gripped onto his rosary. Dark hallways were also the perfect place to execute the perfect assassination as well.

Sir Thomas closed his eyes for a moment. His heart was racing rapidly and his breath was ragged. He tried telling himself that he shouldn't be afraid and he was being unreasonable. But the circumstances made him afraid and paranoid. He walked quickly to his office not noticing someone else was following him. He gripped his rosary even tighter and whispered.

"Pater noster, qui es in caelis sanctificetur Nomen-"

Suddenly he felt a hand touch his shoulder. A jolt of fear rushed through his body as he jumped and shrieked in the process. Suddenly a familiar devious laugh invaded his ears. He growled and turned his body fully around to find he was face to face with Thomas Boleyn. His dark eyes conveyed anger. This wasn't funny! Moore had every right to react the way he did! The man snuck up behind him and touched him without any damn warning. An invasion of his fucking personal space.

"I didn't realize I was that much of a terrifying person," Boleyn mocked as he wipped a tear from his eye which resulted from laughing so hard.

"Fuck you Boleyn," Sir Thomas scowled, "you don't come up to people from behind, a man like you especially should know that such childish antics are allowed at court. Now if you would excuse me if you don't need me for anything particular you are keeping me from my work."

He turned to walk away, but didn't get that far when a strong hand gripped his wrist forcing him to stop dead in his tracks. The grip was hard and tight like a shackle locked around the wrist. His eyes closed for a moment as his breathing once again became ragged. His heard was racing. It was worse than he feared. That Boleyn Harlot had told her father about Sir Thomas being Harry's father. A gut feeling he was trying to either make him an ally like he had done many times before, have him stashed away temporarily so he wasn't in the way of his conquest to the throne or worse kill him. Either way he was rather uncomfortable and needed to break free as soon as possible.

"Your childish antics aren't going to scare me or sway me," Moore growled, "nor is it going to make me become your ally, release me at once or I will tell the king about this and your plans to get your harlot daughter on the throne."

The next thing the humanist knew he was slammed face first against the wall. His arm was pinned roughly around his back. He winced at the pain. Again he prayed he would make it out of this alive on the other hand he hoped he did some damage to him so his head would rot on a spike. He closed his eyes and started panting and struggling, trying to get away from his grip. He tried to pry through but he felt the other man's knee press against his backside. There was no escape. The next thing he knew he felt the other man's breath against his ear.

Sir Thomas soon began to shake violently. What the hell was he doing now? Trying to fucking rape him.

"I know your secret," Boleyn hissed, "about you and the king..."

The humanist's face began to drain from its color. He was right. The harlot had already told her family the secret. He furrowed his brow in anger. He would not let him scare him, maybe it was a trick to blackmail him into being his ally. So he took a deep breath and chuckled and showed a brave front in defiance.

"I don't know what the hell you are talking about," He growled.

Boleyn slammed him harder against the wall. His body trembled at the feel of the rough cold stone wall against. He bit his lip harder he tasted blood. He took a deep breath trying to calm himself down.

"Don't you dare be a smart ass I know you are the King's father," Boleyn hissed in his ear again, "I am aware you don't want it to be let out in the public-"

"Blackmail isn't going to sway me," Sir Thomas growled.

Boleyn chuckled in his ear.

"It isn't blackmail," He taunted, "it's more like your precious son could be executed for claiming he is royal when he is not."

Moore slumped his head in defeat. Damn him for knowing his weaknesses. But he was right now that the scum Boleyn knew the truth and his son's life was on the line he had no choice to accept.

"What are your terms Boleyn," he said in resignation.

He didn't want to agree with him. But he had no choice Harry's life was on the line. He just prayed this torture did not last any longer than it was.

"My George has told me he has expressed interest in your daughter," Boleyn whispered in his trembling captive's ear causing his prey to wince again, "I want to arrange a marriage between my George and your daughter Elizabeth."

Moore raised an eyebrow. All these threats for an engagement? He couldn't help but laugh inwardly inside. He didn't expect Boleyn would put on quite a show just so he could arrange a marriage between possibly two of the most powerful families in England. He was more childish than he thought, but at the same time he had to be wary for Boleyn's mouth could get Harry killed.

"All this violence to arrange a marriage," He growled in a sarcastic tone, "couldn't you just ask nicely? I would have accepted!"

Boleyn released his grip slightly from his captive and stepped backed. He wasn't free, but Sir Thomas was absolutely relieved that Boleyn did not have him trapped.

"So you accept?" The Earl of Wiltshire grumbled.

"Yes as long as my secret about my son remains safe within your mind," Sir Thomas snarled in annoyance.

Boleyn had completely released Thomas by then. The humanist breathed a sigh of relief. Sir Thomas realized that he could use the union between George and Elizabeth to his advantage. He could use George as a spy to know all of Boleyn's evil plans and use it against him, especially since John had mentioned George didn't get along with his family so well.

"Your secret is safe with me Moore," Boleyn replied darkly before walking away.

Sir Thomas wiped his sweating brow with his sleeve. He was glad THAT ordeal was over. He made a silent prayer in thanks to god before walking the short steps to his office. He went the few short steps to this office before Boleyn turned around and bellowed:

"And Moore...you tell the king about this you will have much worse coming to you."

And then he was gone. Moore made a mental note that when the Boleyns fell out of favor to use this incident against him. He shut the door behind him locking it. He wanted to recover from that confrontation. He walked slowly to his desk and collasped into his chair wondering what the hell just happened. He wondered if more violence and blackmail would be use against him as more people learned the secret about his son, especially since his weakness was doing everything to keep his children safe. He prayed not!

Suddenly a white piece of parchment with a red seal caught his eye. He knew it was, it was a letter from his Harry. He carefully ripped the seal and laid the letter flat on the desk to read the words.

_My Dearest Father,_

_I know you are in great distress that Mr. Cromwell knows that you are my father but I can assure you, he has not a single intention of using my paternity against you. In fact he swore he would help me find a way to keep me on the throne god forbid this secret had ever gotten into the wrong hands. _

_I have come to the conclusion that your hatred against the protestant faith is a culprit in your distrust to Mr. Cromwell. As your son and as your king I wish for this to change._

_I would like to arrange dinner between the three of us this evening hoping to end any animosity that runs between the three of us hopefully that there shall be no turmoil between the two of you within the future._

_With All my love_

_Your son Harry._

Sir Thomas groaned and placed his head in his hands. This was not going to end well at all.

* * *

Cromwell was on edge the moment he said that he wanted to have dinner with him and Moore at the same time. He thought nervousness was a sign of weakness but he couldn't help it. He cared a lot about the King as much as he didn't want to admit it which made him a part of the king's life. He couldn't concentrate on his work, he wounded up pacing back in forth in his office for hours.

One person who seemed to take immediate notice of Cromwell's son Gregory.

"Father," Gregory said as he walked into his father's office before shutting the door behind him, "you seem nervous, what's wrong?"

The moment he heard Gregory's voice he tried to straighten himself up and gain back his composure. One person Cromwell feared showing weakness to was his own son. The deaths of his mother and his sisters left him on unstable ground. Cromwell felt it was his duty to keep it stable. He felt that if he showed one sign of weakness, it left Gregory vulnerable to falling and falling hard.

"I am not nervous," The secretary replied as he walked over to Gregory and placed his hands on his shoulders. He had to admit with Gregory here he was much calmer, since he often stated that his son was the reason of his sanity.

Gregory raised an eyebrow and then gave a smirk.

"Father," He said narrowing his eyes, Cromwell couldn't help but smirk at the fact his facial expressions bared a striking resemblance to himself, "I am 20 now, and I am old enough to know that even if you are not weak you are vulnerable to feelings that all adults would feel, like anger and sadness. Unless you were soulless as everyone says you are I doubt you don't have the ability to feel."

Cromwell replied with a proud smirk. Clever boy. He sighed and let go of his son's shoulders, gesturing him to sit by the two chairs by the fireplace.

"You win son," Cromwell said as he sat on the chair whilst Gregory followed. "I am pretty nervous."

Gregory looked at his father in intrigue. Like many children he was the type believe that his parents were invincible nothing could hurt. But as he grew older and experienced more he realized that his father was a human like everyone else and was allowed to feel as much emotions as anyone else. Gregory felt it was his turn to comfort his father now for whatever was bothering him.

"And what is it that is bothering you father?" He asked.

Cromwell made a wry smile at the irony. It was usually him who asked Gregory the questions and it was he who gave Gregory advice. But now the tables had turned and it was Gregory's turn to give his own father comfort in his father's time of need.

"Well," He began looking for the right words to say, he knew he had to be careful about what words he chose because for the King and Moore's safety he could not reveal that the true paternity of Henry VIII, "the King has asked me to have dinner with him and his..." he paused it was awkward describing Moore as Lord Chancellor now that it was revealed that he was Henry's father, "Sir Thomas Moore."

Gregory who was just as observant as his father noticed the other man fumbling at the words. That seemed a little odd...but he didn't even question it. He knew that his meeting with Moore was making his father very nervous. He was aquatinted with Moore's only son John for he lived in the room across from him with his Roommate George at Cambridge. And he was always complaining to George about how his father does not stop ranting about Martin Luther and as Moore called it his "crackpot" reformation. Luckily John was different from his father, though he was a Catholic his philosophy was to just let everyone believe what they want as long as they don't become violent enough to shove their beliefs down their throats.

But bringing himself back to focus Gregory knew exactly why this meeting was making rather anxious. While Moore was a rather zealous Roman Catholic, Gregory's father was a zealous Protestant, the Secretary's only son couldn't help but cringe thinking about what a clash between the two extremes would be like. He sighed and looked back at his father.

"I am guessing the meeting isn't going to go well and Moore is going to wind up roasting you like a pig during Christmas," Gregory asked sarcastically, sarcasm was yet another trait he had shared with his father, "you shouldn't worry; the king is there to mediate any tension that arises between the two of you. From what I heard he admires your work and diligence, I know he is heavily influenced by Sir Thomas Moore, but I do not believe he will let Moore for your sake and the sake of Moore's reputation let such a thing happens, unless he's his father."

Cromwell tried to not let his smirk fade. Oh if only it wasn't that complicated. Yes now that Moore was the king's father, it wasn't just advising anymore, whatever Moore said, King or not King Henry had to now obey. It was a commandment in the bible but a commandment in life. The son must obey the father and never strike or attack him. Then again, there was also possibility that whilst at court Moore wasn't Henry's father but his Chancellor who had the rare immunity to put his foot down and not be executed for it. He hoped he that was the possibility.

"Since he is not you shouldn't worry," Gregory continued, "all you need to worry about standing your ground and keeping your beliefs in check, which I know holding your convictions and beliefs is something you excel at, just stay strong."

Cromwell smiled wider at his son's words. He was proud that the years had made Gregory from a shy young boy to a wise young man. Not only did Gregory's words make the secretary more confident to face Moore but his worries soon diminished.

Soon his eyes moved to the clock and sighed. He wished the conversation would last a wee bit longer, but another pet peeve of his was being late, he always had to be early for EVERYTHING.

"Well I wish I could stay and talk longer but I don't want to kept Moore and his majesty waiting," He said as he got up and stretched his arms, he then walked over to Gregory and patted him on the head, "but thank you for your words I shall keep them in mind during this...rather...unpredictable meeting."

Gregory couldn't help but chuckle as his father walked towards the door.

"Shall I be expecting you to come home late?" He asked.

"Knowing Moore," Cromwell said turning his son, "though he is a good man but he is stubborn as a mule, so expect me to come home early."

And with one last chuckle he made his way out the door and made his way to a rather interesting night.

* * *

By the time Sir Thomas had arrived to the king's chambers, Cromwell was already sitting at the table. His eyebrows furrowed. God, why did he have to be early to every fucking event? Either he was trying to make himself look better to Harry or just was neurotic enough to be a little too early to every event.

"Mr. Cromwell," Sir Thomas grumbled.

Cromwell's eyebrow's furrowed just as much as Moore took a spot at the dining room table. It was on the opposite end. The secretary rolled his eyes at the maneuver.

'_What?_' He mocked in his mind, '_does he think quote unquote heresy is contagious and is that way he is sitting as far away from me as he can? Or does my presence make him uneasy? Humm I didn't realize I could be that scary!_'

"Sir Thomas," Cromwell replied giving a polite grin.

The room was then silent, eerily silent. Moore just sat on the other side of the room giving the secretary a death glare as he folded his arms in front of him. Cromwell didn't know what he found more amusing, the childish gestures or the death glare he was giving him. The Secretary gave a wry smile and decided to be the better man and break the silence.

"How are you children?" Cromwell said calmly and politely, "are they getting along with their new brother."

Sir Thomas snarled. This innocent exchange was starting become a game of chess. It was all about wits and so far, the heretic felt he had the upper hand, but Sir Thomas vowed his satisfaction would not last much longer.

"Twist the knife a little deeper Mr. Cromwell," He replied with venom on his tongue, "I know your kindness is false, I know somewhere in that dark abyss of that mind of yours, you see me as a threat to your vendetta to eliminate Catholicism in England and are planning to get rid of me."

Cromwell chuckled and took a sip of the wine that was set out for him on the table as soon as he arrived. An amusing night this would be indeed.

"Unless you can read minds Sir Thomas," He replied, "I don't believe you know exactly what I am thinking."

Soon like all private meetings, Sir Thomas quickly began to become rather annoyed at the slimy Heretic especially since he thought he was SO hilarious and much more clever than the Humanist was.

"I know you think that you are smarter than me Mr. Cromwell," Sir Thomas continued staring darkly into the other man's eyes, "I hate to spoil your dreams but you are NOT!"

Suddenly a sarcastic chuckle left the other man's lips

"Wow for one of the greatest minds in England," Cromwell said raising his eyebrow once again, "you surely act like a child."

"GO BACK TO YOUR POOR HOME IN PUTNEY WITH YOUR DRUNKEN FATHER YOU SPINELESS SNAKE!" Sir Thomas growled as he got to his feet slamming his hands on the table.

Cromwell barely ever lost his cool nor had he ever lost it in public. But the moment that no good spineless son of a bitch spoke about his painful past, something snapped within him. He soon as well got to his feet staring into Moore's eyes just as darkly.

"MY FATHER MAY HAVE BEEN A DRUNK," Cromwell growled, "BUT AT LEAST HE DOESN'T HIDE THE FACT HE IS ABUSIVE BY SENTICING OTHER ABUSERS TO DEATH WITHOUT MERCY."

Moore's face became pale, but kept his angry gaze on the other man. No one was supposed to know that his father would beat him mercilessly. It was too painful for him and he feared his father would come after him for tarnishing his reputation. That snake must have dug through office and took a peek at his journals. That Bastard that sneaky bastard. He growled and lifted a candle off the table.

"THAT IS NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS YOU SPAWN OF SATAN! BURN IN HELL WHERE YOU BELONG!" The humanist roared as he threw the lit candle across the table.

Luckily being a soldier in war Cromwell managed to duck before he managed to get himself hurt or worse burned alive like those brave men defending the Protestant faith. He looked behind him and saw the unlit candle rolling towards him. He blinked before looking back at Moore with a sheepish look on his face.

"Was that your attempt to burn me?" He asked giving a wry smile, "because, that was rather pathetic attempt to defeat me!"

Moore growled and picked up yet another lit candle and threw it across the room while screaming:

"DIE YOU EMISSARY OF SATAN!"

Again Cromwell managed to duck without receiving any injury he looked over to Moore and smirked.

"Now I know where the King gets his rather short fuse from."

Moore growled and began charging at Cromwell. Luckily before the situation became violent a voice rang out into the room:

"ENOUGH!"

Both men froze and turned their heads to face the king who was standing at the back of the room. His large arms were folded in front of his chest. His blue eyes stared in annoyance and disappointment, mainly annoyance.

"Sit down both of you, " Henry growled, "you are acting like children."

Both men looked at each other with one last furious before placing themselves back at their chairs. Each man's face was tense with anger and their arms folded across their chests. Henry walked around the table looking at both men's faces. He was surprised about how childish the two of them were acting. He was doubly surprised that both men, who often seemed so calm had to ability to react so violently towards each other. Cromwell maybe, but his father he doubted it. It shamed him that line was divided this way when it seemed before they were getting along just fine until Henry told his father that Cromwell knew the secret. Especially since both men were not so different from each other after all. They were both fathers who loved their children dearly. Both had seen abuse and death in their lifetimes. Both were his obedient servants. Hell they even dressed alike.

It made Henry wonder why his father was so distrusting of this man, his secretary and most trustworthy servant. Was it because he was a Protestant? If it were so then his father was acting irrational.

"Now that you both are settled," Henry began standing in between the two men placing his hands on the wooden table, "I am wondering what is going on between you, before this you both engineered a law that was the cornerstone for the rights of women and you got along and agreed with each other, and now I come into you both fighting like an old married couple and one throwing objects at each other-"

"Your majesty," Cromwell interrupted as he folded his arms in front of him trying to maintain his composure, "I do not mean to interrupt but it was Moore who reacted violently to me!"

Sir Thomas stood up from his side of the table placing his hands on the wooden surface. Cromwell was not going to humiliate him in front of his son.

"You were the one who egged me on MR. Cromwell!" The humanist retorted narrowing his dark eyes.

The secretary was soon as his feet as well, his grayish blue eyes were now cold as ice. He may have been guilty of overacting to the humanist's taunts about his past but he was not going to have all the blame placed on him. They were equally as guilty as the other.

"I merely asked you how your children reacting to their new brother," He said, "I was asking in concern not humiliation Moore."

"QUIET BOTH OF YOU!" Henry roared again he first turned his head to his father, "you may be my father, Sir Thomas but here I am king and you know especially that you do not interrupt me," he then turned his head to Cromwell, "now I want to know what happened, you start Mr. Cromwell."

Cromwell cleared his throat and looked to Moore and then looked to the king.

"Your father over here accused me of going to my quote unquote heretic pals to plot an assassination attempt on him," He said with venom on his tongue, "I merely joked that he couldn't read my mind and then he tells me to go back to Putney with my drunken father," he then turned his head back to Moore, "and may I remind you my father is dead thanks to your hypocrite father's-"

"Now you are just stooping to my level," Moore growled interrupting the other man in mid sentence, "and stay out of my business! My demons are my own to overcome NOT YOURS!"

Henry slammed his hands on the table. So far his plans to for the two men to come to peace with each other were failing miserably. But he was not going to give up. He wanted his father to be mindful of others even if they don't believe what he believed and not make any foolish accusations. He wanted the other man to see that just because he was of a different faith he was not against him nor was he a monster.

"STOP FIGHTING!" He growled, "PLEASE!"

Both men stood in silence looking at each other dead in the eye. He turned his head back to look at his secretary. He suddenly had an idea on how to bring these two together. He didn't want to see his father in such mental agony but it was necessary to prevent further arguments amongst the two men. But he knew if he brought up the one thing they had in common maybe it would be the first step to help them get along.

"Now I know that you feel threatened by may because he is a more powerful man than you because he is my blood," He said, "and I know you hate when my father makes false accusations about you and what you believe in but you are just as guilty, if I do recall you before you worked together you called my father a murdering, greedy bastard who got a kick out of seeing others in pain?"

Cromwell's cheeks turned red. He had just saw his first burning since the victim being burned was a friend of his. He regretted showing such weakness but he was in so much distress at that moment. He had even apologized to the king for saying such harsh things in a moment in weakness and eventually the king understood. Luckily Moore wasn't there at the moment he said those harsh inappropriate words and he hoped Moore would not ever find out he had said those harsh and cruel words.

Sir Thomas in the meanwhile felt a sting of pain course through his body. He tried to never let words bring him down and laugh at those silly rumors and jokes. But these words, these words hurt. He hated pain especially since he suffered so much agony and turmoil in his lifetime. He never ever wanted others to suffer as much as he suffered in the past. No one deserved to suffer! He slightly winced and turned his head away from the two men not to see the pain that was forming in his dark eyes.

He closed them for a moment as horrible memories from his past filled his mind , memories he didn't want to ever revisited. He didn't know why he was beginning to think about his abuse, he wasn't being beaten but he was being accused of something he was not. Being accused of something he was not was something that he associated with a dark, dark time in his past.

He saw himself at five years old hugging his pillow tightly, crying so violently that his body was shaking. His mother was dead when he thought she was sleeping. He didn't fully understand what death was since no one explained it to him but all he simply knew was his mother was in a sleep that he would never wake up from. He didn't know how long had passed, hours, minutes second. Suddenly he heard the door creaked open. He didn't bother looking up; he just heard footsteps walking towards him. As he heard each thump his body shook even more vigorously. Soon he felt a hand grab him roughly by the hair and made him look up into...his own father's eyes. He remembered the sound of his father's breathing and how his breath reeked of ale he drowned himself in loss of the death of his wife. His young prone self began to wail hard as his father brought his mouth to his son's ear.

_Do you realize what you did you little brat_, He heard his father's voice hiss in his ear, _you killed your mother._

He saw his young self tremble in fear with nothing but pain and confusion in his dark eyes. He didn't kill his mother! She fell after she was really sad.

_I didn't kill mommy_ Sir Thomas heard his young self cried _it was an accident I was only trying to wake her up, please believe me papa._

But his father did not believe him he just threw him to the ground and began kicking his young child over and over again. The lawyer remembered himself pleading for is father to stop the pain! But it was to no avail the pain continued. And that was the worse of a long line of terrible beatings to punish him for something he didn't do...murder his mother.

Sir Thomas brought himself to reality and looked up into Cromwell's eyes. But Cromwell was not staring back at him, it was his father's.

_Murderer, murderer, murderer,_ the image of his father taunted, first you killed your mother now you killed those heathens.

"I am not A MURDERER!" He growled with tears falling down his eyes. His body was shaking, tears were falling down his eyes. He brought his head down to his chest and began heaving. His hand was placed on his now racing heart. "All those deaths weren't my fault I didn't mean for them to happen."

Henry watched closely as his father went from strong and defiant to sad and in pain. But he needed to know that he was guilty as well for the same thing Cromwell was, accusations and taunting. He just hoped his father would forgive him when this was over.

"Moore I didn't mean you hurt you with my words and I apologize for saying such harsh things that were certainly not true about you at all," Cromwell said looking a bit sympathetic but still trying to keep himself as stern as he possibly could, "but I think your son is trying to prove a point. Your accusations that I am a snake, that I am power hungry that I wish to see you lying dead on a stone slab, hurt me as much as my childish accusation that you like murdering people hurt you."

Henry turned his head to his rather distressed father and watched as he lifted his head up. Biting his lip hard. Henry just hoped the bite wouldn't cause blood to be drawn.

"No you are not!" Sir Thomas cried, "do you know what it is like to be accused of being a murderer everyday of your life when you did murder everyone. Do you know what is like to have the one person who is supposed to protect you tell you every day make you pay something you didn't do and for every single solitary fucking mistake you made?"

Cromwell brought his head down to his side. He didn't want to admit it! While everyone knew about his father's murder conviction as they knew about his drunkeness and deviant behavior, but did not know the WHOLE story and he hoped that no one would ever know the whole story. Only people he cared about would know the whole story like Gregory. He quickly gathered his lost strength that was obvious to the two men in the room again cursing himself for his minor sign of weakness and looking back up into the pair of eyes from father and son.

"No," He lied.

"I do," Sir Thomas growled loudly looking into Cromwell's eyes darkly, "I spent my whole childhood being called a murderer, I didn't like it then and I sure as hell DON'T enjoy it now."

He wanted to be strong. But his horrible childhood memories overcame him. He bent his head down to his chest and began to weep. Cromwell watched in shock and horror. It told him that the strong humanist the man of all seasons was a human just like everyone else and had times of weakness. But he didn't realize Moore would react in such a way. He felt a bit of guilt but he would not show it. He just watched. Henry in the meanwhile chose to say silent and not intervene unless tensions rose and emotions ran wild like now, when he witnessed his usually strong father break down he ran to his side.

Henry walked over to his father's side and made circular reassuring motions on his back. He needed to know that he had a son on his side that loved him.

"Father sit," Henry whispered in his father's ear, "you'll feel better."

The king pulled out a chair and gently sat his father down. He pulled his father's head in so he could hear his heartbeat. It was funny it was usually his father that would comfort Henry but now the tables had turned and he was doing for his father what the other man did ever so often to him. Henry always dreamed of that, having a parent to take care of and support when he or she was down he had that within this new surrogate father. But now he had the chance to give back what his father so often done.

He ran his hand through his father's hair hushing him. As he was comforting his father he lifted his head up to look at the other man sitting on the other end of the table. Cromwell's eyes usually bared no emotion but tonight they did! They showed sympathy. That sympathy expressed in the other man's blue eyes sparked with an idea within Henry, he could use those eyes to prove a point.

Henry smiled and bowed his head at him in gesture of telling the other man he was not in any trouble. A bit of relief washed across Cromwell's face but those sympathetic eyes remained there.

"Your-" Cromwell quickly cut himself off remembering how many times Henry yelled at him for calling him by his proper title, "Henry, I see your father is in great distress and I feel that my presence is not helping his well being whatsoever. Should I leave?"

Henry continued giving his father comforting gestures. His father's wails had diminished but his tears remained. His body was still shaking. Usually he would not let his friend cry this long but Sir Thomas was no longer a friend, he was family. And it was his duty as a son and to let whatever emotions the one he cared about had deep within him or herself to be let out and not object to it.

"No Mr. Cromwell," Henry said looking with now stern eyes.

And Cromwell obeyed without even daring to budge. He just stood there and watched with that same sympathetic expression upon those blue eyes. He didn't know how much time had passed before Henry lifted Moore's chin and gently turned his face towards Cromwell.

"Father," Henry whispered, "I want you to look at Mr. Cromwell."

Sir Thomas opened his dark eyes and looked upon Cromwell. He would rather not look in the other man's eyes and continue the conversation. He truly wanted come home to the safety of his chambers and wallow in self pity for displaying such weakness in front of someone who probably fed off of weakness like wine. But Harry was being patient for once and comforting him so he had to hear his son out, as repayment for being so kind.

"Look deep into his eyes father," He heard Harry whisper in his ear again, "I want you to tell me what you see."

As Harry asked he concentrated on the other man's eyes for a few moments. Usually Cromwell's face was emotionless no one ever knew what the hell that heretic was ever thinking. He could have that frown upon his face but in his head he could be laughing and taunting someone in there. But when he looked into Cromwell's eyes this time he saw something he had never seen before. Kindness and concern. Cromwell may have had that stoic tense frown upon his face but inside within his supposedly dark soul, there was some guilt within there. He was now the prime example of the old saying, "your eyes are the window to the soul."

"I see pain, sympathy and guilt," The humanist whispered wiping his tears away with his sleeve.

Henry smiled. He was glad that this meeting was no longer in vain but was somewhat productive. Soon he would get these two men to, not be best friend but be allies and hopefully understand each other better. That way he could go into phase two of his plan, make both men tolerate each other's beliefs.

"Yes father," The king continued handing his handkerchief over to his father so he wouldn't have to soil his fine clothing with all the dirt and the grime on his face not that it would probably matter he always wore black anyway, "I also see what you see sympathy. You see now that Mr. Cromwell doesn't think ill of you at all. If he did would he be looking over your well being?"

Sir Thomas sniffed, Harry did have a point. If Cromwell was as heartless as the humanist thought he was, the secretary would be instead laughing and drinking in the sight and continue to berate him in front of his own son. Maybe he should learn not to count his chickens before they hatched.

"No," Sir Thomas finally replied before looking into Cromwell's eyes, "I guess I shouldn't assume things too quickly. I apologize for acting so harshly and assuming you have bad intentions against me because I am ruining your dreams for a Protestant reformation here in England, do you forgive me?"

Cromwell face finally washed away of all its tension. He was glad that he could somehow work things out with Moore. There were still things that needed to be mended between the two of them, but it was better than nothing and acting so coldly to each other. But when push came to shove, other than their religious differences they would make a great team. They were after all like bookends. With that he turned his head to the side to hide the slight grin forming on his face. While he successfully maneuvered once again hiding his facial expressions from the two men, he failed to tame the chuckle that escaped his lips.

"Well," Cromwell said hunching his shoulders as he made yet another wry smile, "I can't be that angry with you Moore, besides you aren't the only one who thinks I am the emissary of Satan, speaking of which I don't think he's too happy that I spending more time with you guys than following his strict orders."

Sir Thomas couldn't help but laugh at the comment. He had to admit for a man who, besides tonight was often quiet and obedient, he had quite the sense of humor. As long he held his tongue on his religious beliefs, Cromwell would most likely fit in well in his humanist circles, he certainly had the attitude for it.

"So," Henry said looking at both men once again, "are you both friends now?"

Both men looked to each other and then to the King.

"Yes," The two men who to Henry were like bookends, with dark hair, dark clothes and pale skin.

_'Excellent_' Henry thought as grin formed across his face, _now to phase two of my little scheme to learn tolerance about the other's beliefs._

"I am glad" Henry said.

Henry sat down at the center of the table. He folded his hands on the wooden surface. The two "bookends" followed. It was now peaceful! He prayed this peace would last throughout the rest of the conversation. Especially since phase two of his plan was a little radical but necessary.

His next phase wasn't to use his sister Cecily as a Guinea Pig, but the moment he found out his youngest sister Cecily's attraction to the young Gregory Cromwell he knew this was a sign. Because of Cromwell and Moore's separate beliefs, both children represented the two religions that were at odds with each other and caused the most violence. With this union this could represent religious unity throughout the English country land but the question how these two men would react to his plan for his little sister's happiness.

"Now," Henry said leaning back in his large ornate chair twiddling his fingers together, Sir Thomas couldn't help but smirk at the sight. The humanist had the same habits when engaging in a serious conversation whether it be talking to his children or making diplomatic negotiations, "the other reason I asked you both here. As you know I recently spent some time with my new siblings, speaking of which, not meaning to get off topic, but I heard the news of my sister Elizabeth's engagement with Anne's brother George. I am hoping that god blesses the both of them."

Sir Thomas' smirk slightly faded but not enough for Harry to notice. He was happy for Elizabeth because he met George plenty of times through his youngest son John. He knew George, unlike the rest of his sleazy family. He was much different when Boleyn wasn't watching his every move he was able to show his true colors. He was just scared, scared of Thomas Boleyn. He vowed to himself he wouldn't let the vulture scare him. But the violent way he acted with him hours ago with his threats just terrified him. If he was that cruel lord knew what other damage he could do to another man! He remembered Boleyn's threat he had to pretend it never happened, for his and his dear Harry's safety.

"Thank you," Sir Thomas said with the grin returning to his lips, "I don't need to worry who any of my daughters marry at this point, for I know they have a protective brother who has the power to sentence one to death for hurting his family."

The humanist chuckled. The two other men in the room joined in. Henry waited for the laughter to die down to start speaking again. Again he hoped this pleasant mood would stay with them, especially since this piece of news would certainly cause a lot of uproar between the staunch Catholic and the staunch protestant.

"Anyway," Henry said, "I know both of your children are nearing the age to wed and start families of their own. And I am sure with the wonderful fathers they were each raised by they will be excellent parents."

Henry watched as Cromwell bow his head in modesty. Usually he would go on some tangent about how he was not worthy for such compliments, but being a father was something he was the most confident at being.

"So you both must be wondering what point I am trying to make," Henry said now leaning forward again it was another trait he inherited from his long lost father, "and my point is this my sister Cecily had met young Gregory and expressed an interest in him. Of course I made a promise to my sisters that as their king and as their brother that I shall find them a fine man for them each to wed. Since Lizzie is set to marry George Boleyn it leaves me to find a match for little Cecily and for all you have done for me Mr. Cromwell and your help through this recent development in my life I should do the honors a fine young blushing bride for your son. And so I have thought long and hard about this, and, I decided that I am going to propose, no I am going to arrange marry between your children."

Sir Thomas remained silent on this situation. He knew if he fought this against his son it would go nowhere. He was not happy with this decision considering the tensions that will arise in planning this wedding. But he respected his son's decisions, besides he knew Cromwell was a crusader for women's rights and probably taught Gregory to respect the members of the opposite sex. It couldn't be so bad could it? Cecily was safe with a respectable man and not some rich pompous promiscuous fool!

"Well I did not expect this my dear Harry," Sir Thomas said looking into his son's eyes with such kindness and approval. He loved how Harry glowed with happiness when he bared that expression to him, "but I trust you as my son and first born child to decide the right path for your sisters. I have heard many wonderful things about young Gregory and I am sure he will make Cecily very happy."

Cromwell watched with sheepish eyes as Moore turned to him with a kind smile. It wasn't the shock of having his only boy, the pride of his life to be married and have a family of his own. He knew it was bound to happen sooner or later. Besides he was ready to be a grandfather. He knew his Grandchildren would fill the void that was missing from the deaths of his two daughters. But there was one problem; Gregory followed him with such pride. He began dressing and acting like him. He picked up many of his behaviors and his beliefs just as the king did from Moore. And because of this...Gregory wanted to make his father proud and raise his children in a Protestant household just as their grandfather raised him. This dilemma would certainly be a problem as respectable as Moore was.

But for the way he acted before towards him, throwing a lit candle at him hoping to burn him to death, he was acting rather calm that his daughter was marrying a protestant. Then again he heard the man Moore's eldest daughter married, the attorney general Master William Roper was a protestant so maybe he was more lenient in the religious compatibility.

There was one thing though he had known for certain...planning this wedding was certainly going to be a big problem. One wanted their child to be married in a Protestant wedding and the other certainly wanted his child to be married in a traditional Roman Catholic wedding.

"Mr. Cromwell," Henry asked interrupting him in his thoughts, "are you alright? Are you upset by my arrangement?"

Cromwell looked up at the king and gave him wry smile.

"Oh no maj- Henry," He began again looking to both Moore and Henry in various increments, he was getting used to the King's request to call him by his given name but he still needed to get the hang of it, "I am indeed honored that you have found a fine bride for my dear Gregory for she comes from a family of a great, intelligent, and most important man in the English realm but I must admit my worries with your permission of course."

Henry bowed his head as Moore narrowed his eyes keeping a dignified and calm composure. Cromwell took a deep breath and folded his hands on the table.

"I fear there will be complications in planning this particular union," He said looking with sincere and determined eyes, "I know we have been waiting for this day in our lives since the days in which our children were born and I believe want to make this process as peaceful as humanly possible and I feel our differences in beliefs will be a road block in this process."

Sir Thomas bowed his head in respect.

"I agree," He said with a sincere and diplomatic tone of voice, "this day is special for the both of us, and obviously I don't want to be throwing lit candles again at poor Mr. Cromwell over what is supposed to be the happiest day in our children's lives."

And with that he made a wink that was visible to both men. Henry was relieved this wasn't tuning into yet another screaming match. He was just as happy that they were expressing their joys and concerns over this situation rather than hiding it from each other.

"I understand father," Henry said once again turning his head towards the two men, "and I understand your concerns as well. But you both do not realize that you both have plenty in common. It is a shame that you both have such a divide when it comes to your religious beliefs. But I believe since you are both wise and clever men I fully and utterly believe that you will both come up with a clever compromise."

Henry then waved his hands gesturing for both men come by his sides. Both obeyed. And there they stood like book ends. It was silent for the moment there was only the sound of the crackling fire behind the king. Henry then did something rather bizarre. He took both men's hands and held them within his own. The size and shape of their hands were the only other physical difference between them besides their eyes. Cromwell's hands were long and slender with thin and long boney fingers. And surprisingly to Henry, despite writing all the time, the skin was soft. His father's hands were much different. They were large and bold, muscular from also writing hours on end, however he didn't manage to have as soft skin as Cromwell did. It was rough and calloused, like a rough terrain.

"Now I want you to promise me something both of you," Henry said looking at both men at various increments as he spoke, "I don't care what you do, but all I want is for you to compromise and work together, I don't care if the wedding is a Catholic one and the baptism is a Lutheran one, or if you decide to have a Unitarian ceremony which combines both your faiths together or have two ceremonies one with a Protestant Faith and the other of the Catholic Faith, whatever, I want you to leave your religious beliefs at the door for the sake of your children and get along."

Sir Thomas and Cromwell lifted their heads looking each other in the eyes. It was true they were both guilty of prejudice.

Cromwell believed that all Catholics were fanatical, greedy and too blind to see the corruption problems within their church. Moore may have been a fanatic but, he wasn't greedy. Cromwell did remember one incident that proved otherwise. There were often a bunch of villagers who were poor who would stand outside the palace waiting for noble to be kind enough to give them some change for food or even shelter. Many men ignored them and other's like Boleyn passed by and sneer. Cromwell was guilty of not stopping, even though he felt he had a obligation to just spare some money because he was one of them. But he feared walking over that he would have horrible memories of his traumatic past. However something he witnessed changed his mind.

One morning he was about to walk into court and once again pass the people who suffered as much as he did as a child and feel guilty about it but something caught his eyes. It was Moore, he did not arrive far after the secretary but he didn't enter court right away. He walked to the crowd and knelt down. In curiosity Cromwell walked to get a closer view, but not enough for the Chancellor to see him spying. And what he saw left him in awe and had that image imprinted in his memory for years.

There was Moore on his knees, not caring if he was getting his clothes dirty, not as if it mattered, the other man was wearing black as he usually did. He was talking to two peasant children with a kind smile on his face. The next thing the amazed secretary knew the Chancellor pulled out a little pouch and gave them each two coins. Moore rose to his feet and patted them on the head before walking to the crowd of people. They all held out his hands to him and not caring that he just gave away all his money to strangers put a coin in each other the people's hands. Some cried, some kissed his hands and some thanked him graciously.

"There is no need to thank me," Moore said with a smile, "my money is worth more to you then for a necessity that I will not even need."

And before Cromwell could even blink, the Chancellor was gone. He was speechless as he looked into the crowd to the sea of smiling faces. He still thought Moore was a crazed fanatic but a kind man who put others before himself.

After witnessing that, Cromwell followed the other man's example. He may not have had as much money to give away as he wished to but having a rather soft spot for children he always made sure he gave some change and even encourage them to reach far as he did.

Along with the typical Catholic stereotype of being greedy being debunked by Moore's behavior, Cromwell sure as hell knew that Moore wasn't blind to the fact that the church needed some "spring cleaning". Moore had often complained on the fact that the reason why those quote unquote heathens were rebelling against the church was because the church spending more money on themselves then on the poor like their lord and savior demanded them to.

So if Cromwell overlooked the...overuse of fire and saw the good, and even if Moore didn't want to admit it aloud, the REFORMIST qualities, they could successfully blend their families and make their children VERY happy.

Sir Thomas was just as guilty. He used the moment of silence between the three men to reflect on his own campaign against heresy. He closed his eyes and thought of the men he sentenced to death for their beliefs. He heard their voices, their prayers and their horrid screams of agony in his mind. He thought he was saving them. They were going against the bible and needed to be saved. Depending how quickly the fires burned, their suffering would only be quick.

But then he saw himself standing there as those men who were only guilty for saying something died a horrible death by fire. He cringed, he winced, and he slammed his eyes shut for moments. But he still managed to watch. And when it was done and the flames burned out, he didn't feel guilty at all about it. He felt he was doing the world a favor by getting rid of another enemy of the religion. But now that he had a few moments to think about it...

He was a MONSTER!

Here he was criticizing someone's beliefs and sentencing them to death, when he was the one on most cases, who verbally opposed the death penalty! Along with that he was a crusader of free speech yet he was still acting like an uncivilized savage.

He opened his eyes and looked at Cromwell again. He was a protestant. But he didn't have horns, his eyes weren't red and demonic nor did have the devil's tone of voice as one would expect any people who would go against god would. He was a normal man, who worked, who ate, who drank, who prayed, who loved and had a family just as Sir Thomas did...It was the that the man of all seasons realized, they may have different ways of doing things but he believed in the same things he did, their lord and their savior.

It was then Sir Thomas made a vow, he may not like what they believe but he would tolerate it.

With that thought the man of all seasons bowed his head to the man sitting across from him. The other man responded in the same fashion.

"Now," Henry said as he brought both the men's hands together so that could shake, "do we have a truce?"

Both men did not verbally respond they just smiled and shook each other's hands.

"Well," Henry said in with a smile, "now that we have a match between your two children, I think a celebration is in order."

And with that he clapped and dinner was brought out for the three of them. And the three men spent of the night enjoying each other's company and looking forward to a new future.

* * *

Behind the door there was someone listening. Someone one of the men believed was in his room getting ready for bed and knew better to spy on his father's conversations but he was so eager to know the outcome. Not for himself, but for his father. He would wait to see if his father was okay. At some points he cringed when he heard the yelling and wanted to run in and help his father. But he knew it wasn't his battle, besides for the most part his father was very strong. If he could survive all that he did, he would survive some childish words.

The eavesdropper was able to breathe a sigh of relief when the King came in and alleviated the situation. But he felt the battle wasn't over yet. There was still tension within the room. After what seemed like an hour of muffled angered voices and crying it seemed the situation was under control. With a satisfied grin he began to walk away however he heard a set of words uttered by the king made him stop dead in his tracks.

"I would like to arrange a marriage between Cecily and your son Gregory."

Was he hearing things? Did the King purpose a marriage between him and the youngest Moore daughter? He had to go back and listen further. He had met the lady Cecily on occasion, she may have been quiet and shy, but she was a beacon of kindness and beauty. An exotic beauty that had dirty blonde hair and dark eyes. Any man would be happy to have her as a bride.

But he doubted this proposal would go through. His father wanted him to marry a nice Protestant girl. And Cecily was obliviously NOT Protestant seeming that her father was a pretty staunch Catholic. But then the King's voice interrupted him from his thoughts once again.

"A toast to your children's engagement!"

The eavesdropper blinked his father, his overprotective and picky father, accepted the proposal! And he was marrying the woman that he had feelings for, from the moment he met her. Unable to control himself like his father often done, he let out a happy cheer before breaking out into a little happy jig, but his private celebration quickly halted when he heard his father's familiar voice bellow out:

"That sounded like my Gregory."

At the sound of shuffling of chairs and sounds of footsteps the eavesdropper bolted knowing where he was going. By the time his curious father opened the door he had disappeared from view.

_**WOW THIS CHAPTER WAS 21 Bloody pages! I hope you enjoyed…reviews=cookies! **_


End file.
